How deeply the cares of life, the “what shall we eat, or what shall we drink, or wherewithal shall we be clothed?” the anxieties of business, the wild fever of speculation and gambling, the frivolities of a life devoted to the exclusive pursuit of pleasure and excitement, the arduous strain endured in climbing giddy heights of fame, glory, and power; how deeply are all such merely temporal pursuits, even were they innocent, condemned as vanity of vanities, by that loving reproof of our Saviour, “But one thing is needful.” However unmindful we may be of the fact, eternity surrounds and makes prisoners of us all; and what is the whole world with all its pomp, wealth, greatness, and pleasures, viewed in the dimming light of that eternity? What shall it profit a man if he gain everything but what is really needful, everything but the good part, since “when he dieth he shall carry nothing away, his glory shall not descend after him?” This indeed, is a most serious and awful consideration, and no one possessed of proper feeling, can treat it with levity. The grave, without respect of persons, confronts us all with its awe-inspiring illimitable beyond; and we cannot, if we would, brought up as we have been to possess long-standing associations on the side of Christian truth, and in harmony with the voice of conscience and the higher aspirations and presentiments of the soul, bring ourselves to believe that we shall not reap hereafter as we have sown here. How often have the hills and valley of Wales resounded to stains like these, and long may they do so. But a most important question to ask is, what is comprised in the one thing needful? Are science, literature, and art of only temporary value? In the day of trial will they prove, even when true and pure, but “wood, hay, and stubble,” or will they turn out to be a portion of the “gold, silver, and precious stones” which we can carry with us to the better land?