"AND every man that striveth for the mastery is temperate in all things. Now, they do it to obtain a corruptible crown'; but we an incorruptible."-1 Cor. ix. 25.

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PAUL, brought up as a Jew, at the feet of Gamaliel, instructed in all the narrow, technical, professional literature of his people, escaped entirely from it, and became as unconventional as you can well imagine a man to be. And while, for strictly logical purposes, in constructing an argument for his own people, he drew his material from the Hebrew Scripture, on other occasions he was accustomed to draw his materials from whatever source soever they could be profitably gained. He did not, like modern soi-disant imitators of the disciples, hesitate to introduce into his letters and discourses things "not proper for Sunday," and things "not proper for the pulpit," and things not proper for a sermon." Whatever things had power in them to make men better, were proper; and he took them where he found them. If he went past a temple where there was heathen worship, he took that, and straightway you shall find him using it as an illustration, and drawing from it either inferences or applications for the welfare of men. If he went through the street, and it led him near the forum, where men were striving in argument or disputation, he instantly appropriated that for an illustration, and introduced it into his instruction. Wherever there was an armed hand, wherever there was a skillful process in human life, wherever men dug or delved at foundations, there Paul found matter for preaching. The fact is, a man with an honest heart, bent upon the rescue of his fellow-men, can not get material that will be amiss if he gets material that really makes men better.

The illustration of which our text is a part, is one drawn from the honorary conflicts which took place in the camps for which Greece was celebrated, where wrestlers or racers, as the case might be, contended for the wreath-rather than for the crown, as the text has it. And as the wreath was made up of perishable materials—laurel leaves,

and what not-he well says, "They have a corruptible crown-one that withers and perishes; but we have a crown that is incorruptible.”

He declares that men who strove for these things were "temperate." Now, the word temperance, under such circumstances, means selfcontrol; and self-control means self-denial. Those two words are the complements of each other. Where, in any individual's life, one class of faculties desire, or any faculty desires, a lower thing, and a superior faculty refuses it for the sake of a higher one, the lower faculty is self-denied, and the higher faculty controls. And so there is in every act of self-denial a corresponding act of self-control, as there is in every act of self-control an opposite or antithetical act of self-denial. And the apostle declares that even these athletes, largely made up of heathen people, for the sake of so small a remuneration, from so slight a motive as that of wearing a crown of leaves which soon withered and came to nothing, practiced heroic self-denial. It is said that they were "temperate in all things"-which was much to say in Rome, or in Corinth, or anywhere in the Roman or Grecian empire, of the brute-men that conducted the pleasures of society.

There is, then, in our text, this contrast between the conduct of Christians and the reasons of self-denial and self-control in them, and the grounds or motives which lead to self-control in common pr worldly men. When men are exhorted to live for the honor of Christ, they often admit the beauty of a Christ-like life, but declare that it is beyond their power to live such a life. The force of the will is so great, the force of habit is so great, and the force of temptation external to themselves, its solicitations and its variations, are so subtle and continuous, that men frequently despond and despair of becoming what in some hours they would fain be glad to be. I hope there are no men who are so bad that there are not some lustrous hours through which they look to see an ideal of life better than that which they are following, and in which they long to be something higher than they are. But these momentary aspirations are quenched, too often, by the feeling, "I can not do it." The idea of repressing fiery appetites; the idea of moderation in human passions; the conception of a steady persistence in a regulated business on the part of men who are notoriously irregular; the scrupulous maintenance of fairness, of justice, of kindness, of social goodwill, and of benevolent dispositions among one's fellows-these, the lowest offices of religion, its common and everyday life, seem to hundreds and thousands of men so difficult that they are in their thought romantic and visionary achievements, good to make poetry and hymns of, but not very easy to live on.

I propose to show that self-control is the common experience of men, and that Christianity appeals to an active possibility, for a pur

pose far higher than that for which men usually employ self-denial and self-control.

If there is a class of men who are more than any other likely to be wholly given up to self-indulgence, to the impetuous force of animal desires, it is the athletic class the wrestlers and the prize-fighters. Usually, the men that betake themselves to such occupations are physically organized with high animal endowments; and they feel the pulse of animalism far more than many others do. And yet, for the highest pleasure in that sphere where these men live, they persuade themselves to practice extraordinary self-control. If I were to go down among the men that practice brutal pleasures in New-York, and preach to them a temperate yet acerb life, for the sake of spiritual dignity and future remuneration, they would reply, "That will do very well for parsons, but it is impossible for men like us."

Now, I say that these very men, when it is not something spiritual to be gained, when it is not an incorruptible but a corruptible motive which actuates them, do practice an amount of self-denial and selfcontrol which is far more than is necessary to make them eminent Christian men. Did you ever read-you might have read worse things-the history of the training of men for prize-fights? I have read a great many, and have studied them. They are taken weeks, and months if need be, before the great conflict comes off; and the very fundamental rule which is laid down for a man that is to be trained for a prize-fighter, is temperance. The man that heretofore had never suffered an opportunity of doing good to pass byif drinking is doing good!-is absolutely sworn into a temporary total abstinence. Neither brandy, nor gin, nor whisky may pass his lips. Nay, in the most modern, in the most scientific training, neither wine nor malt liquors may pass his lips. And he is put, in regard to his food, upon only the most wholesome meats and the most wholesome of farinaceous diet; and this in an exactly regulated quantity, prescribed at precisely the same hours. And he becomes a model of temperance and regularity, admired by every hygienist that looks upon the experiment. He continues this for one month, two months, three months, if necessary, until his whole systein glows with the beauty of temperance. These great, swollen, bull-necked men; these great, stalwart fellows; these devourers of meat; these vast drinkers; these men of incontinent pleasures-see how, for the sake of a little transient praise, and the purse that goes with it, they will submit themselves to the most virtuous temperance, and to a long continuance therein. Nay, they introduce a semi-moral element that goes with the punctual regularity and system which they introduce into their lives. Ought comes in here.

They sleep just as much as they ought to sleep, and they awake just when they ought to awake. They are practiced in the most vigorous exercises, too, just as much and just as long as they ought to be. There is a kind of brute conscience brought into play. They begin to follow what might be called the conscience of the stomach, the conscience of the bone and muscle; they submit themselves to itand that, too, with extreme regularity, and through a long period.

The system of exercises to which men submit, if exerted in industry applied to the regular functions of society, would obtain for them a living during the whole year. What with pulling weights; what with using dumb-bells; what with swinging clubs; what with running, or walking, or pulling at oars; and what with a thousand disciplines that men undergo, they put forth an amount of industry which, if applied to an end, would support them through a whole year. Here is this training of the body to toughness, to endurance, to elasticity, to perfect health and vigor; here is the bringing up of an absolute physical manhood to the highest possible standard, followed day and night, without wavering, for weeks and for months-and for what? For the conflict of an hour and a half or two hours. With most brutal results, to be sure; but then there was the motive. For the sake of that they practiced a self-denial and self-control which must appear marvelous to any man that looks upon it.

Now, if in such a class as this there is a power of self-denial, you need not say that Christianity, when it appeals to men to deny themselves, appeals to an impossible, a romantic, or a visionary power. It inheres in the lowest natures. Only find men with an appropriate motive, with a motive that touches them, and you shall find that in the lowest men, and men the most brutal-brothers of the lion and the tiger-there is a potency of self-control and self-denial.

Consider, next, the example of men of a very much higher class, and yet in the same genus-soldiers, military men. If there be any thing in this world that men dislike, it is the endurance of discomforts, constant, unintermitted; of limitations, restrictions, and disciplines; and yet how cheerfully do soldiers endure these things! How willingly do they forego the comforts of home! How much do they suffer in the field! How do they become, when they are veterans, almost indifferent to wind, and rain, and cold, and ice! How little are they dainty of their food! What long periods are they able to go without it! Men usually shrink from danger; but at last the soldier cultivates danger. He becomes knowing and skillful in all its exigencies. He has a pride in it. And although they run eagerly into indulgence again when the occasion requires, how do modern soldiers put on the armor of self-denial, and cheer, and perseverance therein.

In far less discouraging circumstances, how hard it is for men. that are not soldiers to forego the comforts and conveniences of life; but how cheerfully these men, under the stimulus of various motives of ambition, of patriotism, and of society esprit de corps-lower motives, almost all of them-how cheerfully, for years, and sometimes almost all their lives, do they practice themselves in every thing that is rugged, and robust, and manly, and self-denying, and selfcontrolling!

Well, if these men can do it, any body can do it. If prize-fighters can do it, soldiers can do it. And if soldiers can do it, civilians can do it. The only question is, Will you? It is not at all a question as to whether you can. Put men under circumstances where they want to, where they have motives to stir them up, and they instantly show that they have these virtues, and that sometimes they can practice things which at other times seem impossible. Speculative religious teachings seem to them impossible visions of poets.

Go higher yet, to the commercial class of men. There is no class in the world that submit to so much inconvenience, annoyance, and self-denial as men that are making their fortunes-commercial men. It seems impossible to limit their activity. It becomes my duty, and the duty of every man that preaches in these great cities, to caution men against wearing themselves out early. Indolence is natural to mankind. Laziness is a large element of depravity. Men like their own ease. And yet, under the stimulus of motives of wealth, how men almost forget what ease means! How they torment themselves all the week, and are tormented on Sunday with weekly thoughts! How almost impossible it becomes for them to keep still enough even for health! Half their life they cheerfully give, coiling it in every way, tying it in all manner of knots, flinging it sometimes as the javelin is flung, sending it as the arrow is sent, swinging it as the sword is swung, or as the blacksmith swings his ponderous hammer on the anvil. How do they make their life bore, pierce, fly, work-for the sake of what? For the sake of a little property. And are they going to be happier than they were in amassing it? There are very few men who do not think that they are going to be. I never knew a man that had not some speculative idea of what he was going to be by-and-by. I never knew a man that was working who was not forever saying, "As soon as I shall have succeeded." Men are always weaving that golden threaded net that is to bring in multitudes of fishes from the sea, and a piece of money in every one of them. And when they shall have gathered all, then there is to be that wonderful time which every body is living for, but which nobody reaches, when there shall be no cares, no burdens, no necessities, no inconveniences, no wrong habits, but