g, and that merciful hand is beckoning you into the light, and
showing you what you may possess there, it is not walking according to
that summons if you go with your eyes fixed upon the trifles at your
feet, and your whole heart absorbed in this present fleeting world.
Unworldliness, in its best and purest fashion--by which I mean not only
a contempt for material wealth and all that it brings, but the sitting
loose by everything that is beneath the stars--unworldliness is the only
walk that is 'worthy of the calling wherewith ye are called.'

And if you hear that voice ringing like a trumpet call, or a commander's
shout on the battlefield, into your ears, ever to stimulate you, to
rebuke your lagging indifference; if you are ever conscious in your
inmost hearts of the summons to His kingdom and glory, then, no doubt,
by a walk worthy of it, you will make your calling sure; and there shall
'an entrance be ministered unto you abundantly into the everlasting
kingdom.'

IV. And the last of the phases of this prescription which I have to deal
with is this. The whole Christian duty is further crystallised into the
one command, to walk in a manner conformed to, and corresponding with,
the character which is impressed upon us.

In the last chapter of the Epistle to the Romans (verse 2), we read
about a very small matter, that it is to be done 'worthily of the
saints.' It is only about the receiving of a good woman who was
travelling from Corinth to Rome, and extending hospitality to her in
such a manner as became professing Christians; but the very minuteness
of the details to which the great principle is applied points a lesson.
The biggest principle is not too big to be brought down to the narrowest
details, and that is the beauty of principles as distinguished from
regulations. Regulations try to be minute, and, however minute you make
them, some case always starts up that is not exactly provided for in
them, and so the regulations come to nothing. A principle does not try
to be minute, but it casts its net wide and it gathers various cases
into its meshes. Like the fabled tent in the old legend that could
contract so as to have room for but one man, or expand wide enough to
hold an army, so this great principle of Christian conduct can be
brought down to giving 'Phoebe our sister, who is a servant of the
church at Cenchrea,' good food and a comfortable lodging, and any other
little kindnesses, when she comes to Rome. And