Reader! the great problem you have to solve, Jesus has solved for
you--to be "_in_ the world, and yet not _of_ it." To abandon it, would
be a dereliction of duty. It would be servants deserting their work;
soldiers flying from the battle-field. _Live_ in it, that while you
live, the world, may feel the better for you. _Die_, that _when_ you
die, the world, the _Church_, may feel your loss, and cherish your
example! On its cares and duties, its trusts and responsibilities, its
employments and enjoyments, inscribe the motto, "The world passeth
away!" Beware of every thing in it that would tend to deaden
spirituality of heart; unfitting the mind for serious thought, lowering
the standard of Christian duty, and inducing a perilous conformity to
its false manners, habits, tastes, and principles. As the best antidote
to the love of the world, let the inner _vacuum_ of the heart be filled
with the love of God. Seek to feel the nobility of your regenerated
nature; that you have a nobler heritage to care for than the transitory
glories which encircle "an indivisible point, a fugitive atom." How can
I mix with the potsherds of the earth? Once, "I lay among the pots;"
now, I am "like a dove, whose wings are covered with silver, and her
feathers with yellow gold!" "Stranger--pilgrim--sojourner" "my
_citizenship_ is in heaven!" Why covet tinsel honors and glories? Why be
solicitous about the smiles of that which knew not (nay, which frowned
on) its Lord? "Paul calls it," says an old writer, "_schema_ (a
mathematical figure), which is a mere _notion_, and nothing in
substance."--(_Thomas Brooks._)

Live above its corroding cares and anxieties; remembering the
description Jesus gives of His own true people; "They are not of the
world, even as I am not of the world!"

"ARM YOURSELVES LIKEWISE WITH THE SAME MIND."

Thirty-first Day.

CALMNESS IN DEATH.

"Father, into Thy hands I commend My spirit."--Luke, xxiii. 46.

In the death of Jesus, there were elements of fearfulness, which the
believer can know nothing of. It was with Him the execution of a penal
sentence. The sins of an elect world were bearing him down! The very
voice of His God was giving the tremendous summons, "Awake, O sword,
against my shepherd!" Yet His was a death of _peace_, nay, of _triumph_!
Ere He closed His eyes, light broke through the curtains of thick
darkness. In the calm composure of filial confidence He breathed away
His soul--"Fathe