David was the preparer for Solomon the builder, and it is not for us to say which part of the work was the more important. Both together went to the execution of the Divine purpose. So, in every age, "one soweth and another reapeth," but the sower ever prepares for the reaper. Every man may cherish the conviction that his work has its place, and, if he faithfully does it, it will be sure to fit, and help towards the realization of the good Divine thought for the race. This may be illustrated in science: the inventions and discoveries of one age prepare the way for the advances made in a later age. Franklin would be as much amazed as any of us with the modern mysteries of telegraph and telephone and electric light, and yet, by his discovery, he distinctly prepared the way for all these developments. The same may be seen in relation to our Lord's life-mission. It could not have been all that we know it was, if it had been a sudden and unconnected thing. Patriarch, and lawgiver, and psalmist, and poet, and prophet, and Baptist, may fairly and truly say that they took part in the redemption of the world, since each one, in his sphere, helped to prepare the way for Christ.

I. ISOLATE ANY MAN'S LIFE, AND IT MAY SEEM TO BE A FAILURE. Do this with any of the world's great men, in Scripture or in history, and nothing can be made of their careers. In their connections only can their meaning and purpose be unfolded. This reveals the reason for the imperfection in our estimate of the life-work of any man who lives and dies among us. His personnel fills our vision. We see him. He is isolated; and we cannot well see how he fits into his place. Men have to die, their stories must become history, before we can cease to isolate them. No man can hope to be fairly judged by his own generation. And no man can efficiently judge his own work. Even our Lord's life-mission cannot be apprehended if we venture to separate him from his historical associations. Apply these considerations to the distress into which good people sometimes get respecting the value of their work. It seems to be brief, worthless, cut off while incomplete. So we may think when our eyes are fixed. only on it; but the view is incomplete and therefore unworthy. It may well be corrected by a larger vision.

II. CONNECT ANY MAN'S LIFE WITH THE PAST AND THE FUTURE, AND IT WILL BECOME PLAIN HOW HE FITS INTO THE DIVINE PURPOSE, AND AIDS THE HUMAN PROGRESS. This we may, indeed, be only able to do in part, but we can do it sufficiently to assure our hearts that he who has the perfect vision sees the fittings and relations of each man and each man's service. We can see some of the ways in which men at once serve their generations, and prepare for the generation that is coming.

1. Some men have to drag and hold back a too hurried and perilous advance. This is the work given of God to the conservative-toned men among us.

2. Some men have to keep up the standards, in morals and opinion. These may be men of battle, who are keen to discern and quick to resist evils; or they may be men of contemplation, who lift up seemingly unattainable ideals.

3. And some men have to advance the standards. These are the men whom we regard as "before their time," who, at some peril to their own reputation, and much to their own comfort, bring us foreshadowings of the truths which are to be the commonplaces of the next generations. God always has other men ready to take up our work when we drop it. A beautiful and effective illustration may be drawn from the struggle for the standard at the Battle of Lutzen, where Zwingle fell, as described by D'Aubigne in his 'History of the Reformation.' - R.T.

I. THAT GREAT THINGS DONE FOR GOD LOOK POOR IN THE SIGHT OF THE NOBLE SOULS BY WHOM THEY ARE DONE. "Now, behold in my trouble," or as rendered in the margin, "in my poverty," or as it is given in the margin of the Revised. Version, "in my low estate," "have I prepared for the house of the Lord." Speaking after the manner of men, David had really made great preparations for his sacred design. It has been calculated that as much gold was used in the building of the temple as is usually stored in the vaults of the Bank of England, and toward this lavish expenditure David made a large contribution: "A thousand talents of silver." This is reckoned such an incredible quantity that some scholars suspect that an error has crept into the text. Brass and iron, timber and stone, were also prepared in abundance. Yet the king does not regard his gifts with complacency — there is no trace of pride or boasting; on the contrary, he feels that his offerings are poor and inadequate. It is ever thus with noble souls; however great in the sight of the multitude is their work or sacrifice, they mourn over it as over a mean and incommensurable thing. If any man thinks that his sacrifice for the cause of God is notable and adequate, there is something wrong with the size of that man's soul.

1. Whatever we are, we are poor by the side of what God is. The god in many an idol temple is a poor creature indeed when compared with the splendid fabric in which it is worshipped; it is a shock to turn from the gorgeous workmanship of the shrine to the stained, ugly, contemptible idol. Exactly the contrary of this was true in regard to Solomon's temple. However glorious the building, it was yet an unworthy footstool of the God whom Israel knew and worshipped. The God of Israel was the Eternal; the Creator of earth and heaven; the only wise God; the God of truth and without iniquity, just and right; glorious in holiness, delighting in mercy, doing wonders. When tempted to spiritual pride and vanity let us be humbled by "the beauty of the Lord." If you wish to gain a true estimate of yourself do not measure yourself by your neighbour; judge yourself in the sight of God, and your righteousness shall fade as a leaf. The sight of God makes the millionaire a penitent, and as penitents we must strive to build His house again.

2. Whatever we do is poor by the side of what God does. We must notice how both David and Solomon cast side-glances at the vastness and magnificence of the temple built without hands. "But will God in very deed dwell with men on the earth? Behold, heaven and the heaven of heavens cannot contain Thee; how much less the house which I have builded." Whatever they might build was narrow and mean in comparison with heaven and the heaven of heavens. It is a fine discipline to compare our best workmanship with the work of His fingers. The chemist can produce an artificial rainbow, but nobody will mistake the stage rainbow for God Almighty's rainbow. It is well in a generation of intellectual power and artistic skill to put our creations by the side of God's marvellous doings so that we may not forget. "In my poverty have I done this," is the confession of every noble artist who criticises his work in the light of nature's perfections and the glory of the world.

3. Whatever we give is poor by the side of what God gives. What a magnificent giver God is I We see that in the boundless, infinite outpouring of the riches of nature. And we see that supremely in the redemption of the world by our Lord Jesus Christ. "Thanks be unto God for His unspeakable gift." If we take our richest gift and grandest sacrifice to Calvary they dwindle into nothing in sight of the Cross. Then it is that we pour contempt on all our pride. So in the sight of God's personal perfection, and in remembrance of His gifts and works, David felt his talents of gold, his ingots of silver, his forests of cedar, his quarries of marble, his abundance of iron and brass were trivial; they did not pay his debt to God, they simply acknowledged it. If, then, when at our best we are poor, let us not live below our best. David, at least, did his best; let us do ours. Let us not mock God by any paltriness of spirit.

II. GREAT THINGS MUST BE ATTEMPTED FOR GOD IN THE FACE OF THE MOST DISCOURAGING CONDITIONS. David certainly proposed to do great things for God. He had set his heart upon building a house for God that should "be exceeding magnifical, of fame and of glory throughout all countries." Familiar as were the nations round about with wonderful architecture end splendid adornments, David proposed to build a sanctuary for the true God that should eclipse them all. But no sooner did he attempt to work out his pious design than he became conscious of the crippling disabilities of human life, of the narrowness and hostility of the human environment. We have a fine time of it whilst we dream and design; the imagination and emotions know nothing of narrowness, difficulty, or defeat. I should like to see the temples you never build; I should like you to hear the sermons I never preach. But as soon as we essay to turn thought into fact our troubles begin. It is always a critical moment when we proceed from idealism to action. It was so with David. He no sooner attempted to take the temple out of his heart and plant it on Mount Zion than he became conscious that he was poor, afflicted, and of low estate. But — and here is the lesson — all the great work of the world has to be undertaken and carried out with the sense of disheartening difficulty and discouragement. Whenever we thoughtfully look at the splendid achievements of industry, science, literature, and art we feel that an infinite pathos enters into the contemplation. The angels "who excel in strength" may do splendid things with a touch, a breath, a look, but we mortals in poverty and weakness and suffering have built up the whole magnificent fabric of civilisation. And all the great work of the Christian world has been done in similar strenuousness and sacrifice. Not out of a superabundance of wealth, learning, leisure, and opportunity has the Church of Christ floated into power and universality, but in defiance of circumstance does it win its widening way. In what deep poverty Christianity had its origin! Christ is the supreme example of the fact that glorious work must be done in profound discouragement. II David built his golden house in poverty, did not his greater Son in a far deeper poverty build His Church which is becoming the refuge of men of all nations, languages, and tongues? The Cross is the grand symbol of His life and work and mission. Indeed, the primitive Church wrought out its great task of evangelisation and establishment amid unparalleled difficulties and a great fight of afflictions; and through successive generations the expansion of Christ's kingdom has been a series of victories over manifold limitations, oppositions, and persecutions. If you are prepared to do anything for God that is in the least degree worthy of Him, gird yourself and be ready to face almost overwhelming difficulty. If you mean only little things for God, you will have little trouble in doing them; and if you mean less things than that, you will have no trouble at all; but if God has put a great thought into your heart it will mean a sacrifice and a battle. You never do a really large thing easily. The work you passionately desire always looms impossible. Circumstances fetter you, but you must resolutely work in fetters. Physical weakness must not deter you. Do not excuse yourself because you have no leisure. Half the work of the world is done by men who have no time, and who therefore make it. Do not allow the gathering infirmities of age to quench your zeal and effort. Put into the narrowing range of work higher qualities of faith and devotion. Do not even allow private sorrows to deny or discount your public service. When a young Greek soldier complained that his sword was short, a veteran instantly answered him, "Then add a step to it." And I say to you who find yourselves short of time, short of money, short of strength, short of opportunity, "Add a step"; in other words, make up for the deficiencies of material, opportunity, and instrument by an intenser resolution, enthusiasm, and sacrifice. "Well," you reply, "a man can do no more than he can do!" Now that sounds like a very deep philosophical saying that you must take slowly in, but in fact it means nothing. Men never know what they are, what they can give, what they can do, until their soul awakes. "Stir up the gift that is in thee." "Out of my trouble have I done this," might have been the confession of Tycho Brahe, who made his great discoveries without a telescope, showing that what an astronomer chiefly wants is not a big glass but a big eye. "Out of my trouble have I done this," might have been the confession of Christopher Columbus, who crossed the Atlantic in an old tub that we should hardly use to-day for a Newcastle collier. "Out of my poverty have I done this," might have been the plaint of Turner, who painted some of his masterpieces with colours mixed in broken teacups. "Out of my trouble have I done this," says John Milton, old, poor, and blind, as he enriches the world with "Paradise Lost." "Out of my low estate have I done this," says John Bunyan, when he gives you out of Bedford jail the Land of Beulah, the Palace Beautiful, the shining ones, the country that is green the year round, the city of gold and glass, which when we see we wish that we were there. Do not wait until you have "spare time," "spare cash," or "spare" anything else; do your best with things as they are, and faith, which is the genius of the heart, will surprise you and the world. However poor and inadequate our work may seem, God will prosper and multiply it in an extraordinary degree. David felt his poverty, but God brought the thought of his heart to the utmost fruition. "Thus Solomon finished the house of the Lord, and the king's house; and all that came into Solomon's heart to make in the house of the Lord, and in his own house he prosperously effected."

(W. L. Watkinson.)