or of the body does not cover the whole facts of the
case, but there must be warfare in order to growth.

There is also the other metaphor by which this Christian progress, which
is indispensable to the Christian life, and is to be carried on,
whatever may oppose it, is regarded as a race. There the idea of the
great, attractive, but far-off future reward comes into view, as well as
the strained muscles and the screwed-up energy with which the runner
presses towards the mark. But we have not only to fling the result
forward into the future, and to think of the Christian life as all
tending towards an end, which end is not realised here; but we have to
think of it, in accordance with this metaphor of my text, as being
continuously progressive, so as that, though unfinished, the building is
there; and much is done, though all is not accomplished, and the courses
rise slowly, surely, partially realising the divine Architect's ideal,
long before the headstone is brought out with shoutings and tumult of
acclaim. A continuous progress and approximation towards the perfect
ideal of the temple completed, consecrated, and inhabited by God, lies
in this metaphor.

Is that _you_, Christian man and woman? Is the notion of progress a part
of _your_ working belief? Are _you_ growing, fighting, running, building
up yourselves more and more in your holy faith? Alas! I cannot but
believe that the very notion of progress has died out from a great many
professing Christians.

There is one more idea in this metaphor of self-edification, viz., that
our characters should be being modelled by us on a definite plan, and
into a harmonious whole. I wonder how many of us in this chapel this
morning have ever spent a quiet hour in trying to set clearly before
ourselves what we want to make of ourselves, and how we mean to go
about it. Most of us live by haphazard very largely, even in regard to
outward things, and still more entirely in regard to our characters.
Most of us have not consciously before us, as you put a pattern-line
before a child learning to write, any ideal of ourselves to which we are
really seeking to approximate. Have you? And could you put it into
words? And are you making any kind of intelligent and habitual effort to
get at it? I am afraid a great many of us, if we were honest, would have
to say, No! If a man goes to work as his own architect, and has a very
hazy idea of what it is that he means to build, he will not build