acquire and preserve a good reputation, what could be more desirable than prudence, or as our Saviour himself recommends, to be "wise as serpents, and harmless as doves?" To maintain health, to prolong life, or to give a true zest even to worldly pleasures, could there be a better receipt than Christian activity in duty, with Christian moderation and temperance? Such resources, once duly estimated, become more precious the longer they are enjoyed; they enliven us in society, they cheer us in solitude, they diminish the burdens of life, and disarm death of its terrors; those, therefore, who study any other guide to happiness in preference to the Bible have shut out the sun, to read by a rush-light.

It was remarked once of Charles XII., that, having never learned arithmetic, he should be considered but half a man, yet how much more justly might so disparaging a verdict be applied to those who have never learned to know themselves, who live without looking resolutely into the depths of their own existence, and who have yet to learn the pleasures of devotion, of philanthropy, of a rightly stored memory, of a welldirected imagination, and of an everlasting hope, all securely founded on love to God and man?

A human being, when first enlightened by the heartfelt desire of becoming truly Christian in knowledge, in conduct, and in devotion, feels as

if awakened from a trance; amidst new pleasures and new interests he seems to discover, as it were, not only a new heaven, but already to enter on the enjoyment of a new earth. Then every motive and every wish becomes amended; past, present, and future being all gathered, like the centre of a wheel into one great focus of union in that holy faith, around which all his thoughts and desires unceasingly revolve, till in eternity he at length attains the perfection of that happiness, which commences here from the time when the duties and pleasures of religion become paramount in his affections over every feeling of sorrow and trial.

When joy's bright sun has shed his evening ray,
And hope's delusive meteors cease to play;
When clouds on clouds the smiling prospect close,
Still through the gloom thy star serenely glows:
Like yon fair orb she gilds the brow of night
With the mild magic of reflected light.-ROGERS.

CHAP. III.

THE NECESSITY OF LOOKING BEYOND THE PRESENT

HOUR TO AN ETERNAL FUTURITY.

People of the living God,

I have sought the world around,

Paths of sin and sorrow trod,

Peace and comfort no where found.

Now to you my spirit turns,

Turns, a fugitive unbless'd,
Brethren, where your
altar burns,

O receive me into rest!

Lonely I no longer roam,

Like the cloud, the wind, the wave,
Where you dwell shall be my home,
Where you die shall be my grave!
Hebrew Melody.

THERE are rules of perspective to be observed in life as well as in painting. A skilful artist gives to the faintest and most distant objects all their due prominence and solidity in a landscape, while we plainly see the real insignificance of the larger and more highly coloured masses in the foreground; and so does the Christian award to a remote futurity that dignity and importance in his estimation to which the trifles immediately

The most difficult task in life, however, is to make the future predominate in our thoughts over the present, and to prefer invisible realities to visible shadows; for imagination incessantly paints an extreme of earthly happiness as almost within our grasp, which mortal man is never permitted to reach. The young naturally anticipate life as a holyday voyage on a cloudless morning, and expect to float along the tide of events, enjoying a state of consummate felicity which does not belong to the nature of man. Always anticipating more, they despise, in the mean while, the moderate portion of good, as it seems to them, now mingled in their cup, and thus extravagant hopes engender their own disappointment. Longer

experience and more extended views bring a welldisciplined mind to the salutary conviction that all is vain and empty, except the two greatest pleasures of life, and those easiest of access, religion and Christian friendship. The purest attachments of this world, however, bring with them sometimes the sting inseparable from all that is mortal, for death and change track our footsteps in the dearest associations of life. Often when the Christian could himself have borne with fortitude the weight of sorrow fallen unexpectedly on a once-happy home, he looks on the beloved countenances of those around who share in his calamity and weeps for them. When he sees faces that formerly

beamed with ceaseless vivacity now overclouded with grief - when he hears the voice, heretofore buoyant with glee, now saddened and low — when the eye that used to exchange looks of mirth with his own is mournfully averted, and when all the jests that in old times gladdened a cheerful fireside are exchanged for tears when the name, too, once first and dearest in the prayers of an assembled household, must at length be omitted then, indeed, do we begin to feel that our hearts are growing old.

Thus the sympathising mourn often for others, and the most selfish cannot escape having much to endure in themselves. The relish of life in youth is high, while joy is a gift of nature, and before sorrow interrupts its current; yet all are soon made to find and to feel the more sober reality, and it is well for a Christian not to shrink from witnessing the progress of events, whatever they be, knowing that each is gradually producing the development of God's will in respect to himself and all in whom he is interested. With the whole circle of his friends and relatives, as well as in his own most private thoughts, the Christian should endeavour to unite in a spirit of unquestioning submission and of deep tranquillity, derived from a source which no earthly vicissitude can reach. He lives in a continual consciousness that the