The Life of Duty, volume II | Page 4

in minstrelsy and nothing
else. Surely the song of the redeemed, and the music of the golden
harps, are a type of the perfect harmony of Heaven. This life is often
full of discords, the life to come is perfectly in tune. Here on earth our
lives are very like musical instruments. One plays nothing but dirges of
sorrow and discontent. Another life is made up of frivolous dance
music; another is hideous with the discord of "sweet bells jangled, out
of tune, and harsh." The life to come is one of perfect harmony, for
each servant will be in complete accord with the Master's will and
pleasure. And I think the vision of those who play upon their harps, and
sing their song before the throne, show us that the life to come is one of
occupation. There will be, doubtless, growth, progress, experience,
work in Heaven. But there we shall be able to do what we so seldom do
here--all to the glory of God. Here we work so selfishly, there all work
is worship. Here we struggle for the crown that we may wear it, there
they cast down their crowns before the Throne of God. When we speak
of resting from our labours after death, and being at peace, we cannot
mean, we dare not hope, that we shall be idle. When a famous man of
science died, his friends said one to another, "how busy he will be!" We
are bidden to be workers together with God, and we may believe that
He has new and higher tasks for us all, when we shall have passed
through that door in Heaven which Jesus has opened for all believers.

SERMON XXXVI.
THE CONTRAST.
(First Sunday after Trinity.)
S. LUKE xvi. 19, 20.
"There was a certain rich man, . . . and there was a certain beggar
named Lazarus."
What was the rich man's sin? We are not told that he had committed
any crime. He is not described as an extortioner or unjust. There is no
word about his having been an adulterer, or a thief, or an unbeliever, or
a Sabbath breaker. Surely there was no sin in his being rich, or wearing
costly clothes if he could afford it. Certainly not: it is not money, but
the love of money, which is the root of all evil. The sin of Dives is the
sin of hundreds to-day. He lived for himself alone, and he lived only
for this world. He had sunk all his capital in his gold and silver, and
purple and fine linen. He had no treasure laid up in Heaven. So when
the moth and rust had done their work, and death had broken through
like a thief and stolen all his earthly goods, he had nothing left. This
parable is full of sharp contrasts. First, there is the contrast in the life of
these two men. The one rich, the other a beggar. The one clothed in
purple and fine linen, the other almost naked, and covered with sores.
The one fared sumptuously every day, the other lay at the gate starving,
and longing for the crumbs which fell from the rich man's table. The
one had friends and acquaintances who ate of his meat and drank of his
cup, the other was "a pauper whom nobody owns," and the dogs were
his only earthly comforters. The rich man had great possessions, yet
one thing he lacked, and that was the one thing needful. He had the
good things of this life, yet he had not chosen the good part which
could not be taken away from him. He had gold and silver, purple and
fine linen, but he was without God in the world. Lazarus, the beggar,
was after all the truly rich man, "as having nothing, and yet possessing
all things." Next, there is a contrast in the death of these two men. One
expired in a luxurious bed. No doubt there were learned physicians
beside him, and perhaps friends and relatives, though, as a rule, selfish

people have few true friends. The other died we know not where,
perhaps in the hot dusty road at the rich man's gate. There were no
doctors to minister to his wants, no kindly hands to sooth his burning
brow, to moisten his parched lips, to close his glazing eyes. But the
angels of God were about his bed, and about his path, and in their
hands they bore him up, whom no man on earth had loved or cared for.
And there is a contrast in the after time for these two men. The rich
man was buried, doubtless, with great pomp. Some of us have seen
such funerals. What extravagance and display take the place of reverent
resignation and quiet