reverence around us now, and reflect with a deep impression of awe that, though centuries have elapsed since he vanished from the scenes of this world, he still exists and shall continue to exist throughout an eternity of years to come. The same sentiments which animated the pious and enlightened mind of St. Augustine have glowed in the hearts of all successive Christians who lived and died since he did, and the discipline to which religion summons us is the same which has conducted the devout of all intermediate ages into their Master's joy.

We change the fashions, the habits, the amusements, and the pleasures of this world every year, but its eternal duties and interests remain always the same. When St. Augustine mournfully laments his vitiated palate, which cannot rightly taste the enjoyments of religion, and complains that the mists of vanity blind his eyes to its truths, he uses language and expresses feelings equally suited to every Christian in the present. hour. Other books may be read to-day and forgotten, like the toys of an hour, to-morrow, for the fashion of them passes away, but those which thus treat of devotion gain an added value by. their antiquity, especially if we know for certain that the author died, as well as lived, in conformity to all he taught.

Religion being intended to diminish every

sorrow in life, also redoubles every joy, by giving to the Christian a feeling of security and protection in both. Those who pursue happiness only amidst the frivolities of life must not complain if, among the claims, the urgencies, and whirl, of this agitated world, they cannot find peace. Why do men persevere in looking for grapes on thorns, and for figs on thistles, when the tree of life shall be known by its fruits of assured felicity here, and unfading hope hereafter?

Who sought it else,

Sought mellow grapes beneath the icy pole,
Sought blooming roses on the cheek of death,
Sought substance in a world of fleeting shades.

POLLOK.

If our present state were one brilliant succession of enjoyments, few would ever willingly think of the end; but we are taught by frequent sorrow to take the pleasures of this world as the disciples plucked the ears of corn, only while hastening onwards to overtake their Divine Master. Thus the Christian, though he would by no means neglect or undervalue the embellishments that adorn his path, contemplates them with but transient interest, as sources only of temporary ornament and relaxation, not intended to delay his progress, but to refresh him by the way. The pleasures of intellect, of memory, and of home, are all given as the decorations, but not

as the business, of existence; and great as is the enjoyment to be derived from each, or all of these, they are inseparably connected with trials and sorrows, to which every living mortal, in every earthly indulgence, is subject. Such drawbacks on even the nobler pleasures of life are most felt by those of the finest natures; nor could any one envy a disposition so callous as not to suffer from the thorns of life, as he would also inevitably lose many of its most exquisite pleasures.

Dearly bought the hidden treasure

Finer feelings can bestow;
Chords that vibrate sweetest pleasure
Thrill the deepest notes of woe.

As none, however thoughtless, may hope to pass through life without being plunged into scenes of deep affliction, it is well to fortify our minds with the consciousness that there are indeed joys, as well as griefs, peculiar to the forgiven Christian, which enable him, literally, to be, in the language of Divine inspiration, though "sorrowful, yet always rejoicing." His mind continues at peace to life's utmost verge, as testified by frequent instances of almost daily occurrence. A dying Christian once, when about to close his exemplary life. said, "I want but death to complete my happiness;" and the last hours of John Knox afford one instance among thousands, how

mere human strength may fast decay, but the mind be strengthened with growing ardour and brightness. Till his dying breath, he seemed to find every text of Holy Scripture like a sunbeam, lighting him forwards in the dark valley of suffering; and when the 17th chapter of St. John was read, in his final hour, to him, he desired to hear it again three times over. His attention seemed earnestly fixed on those sacred, well-known words, until a moment before the mysterious link between soul and body was broken. When the friend, who prayed beside his pillow, asked whether he still could hear, his last words were these: “Would to God that you had heard with such an ear and heart as I have done! Lord Jesus, receive my Spirit!" Saying which, without any motion, as one falling asleep rather than dying, he, "who never feared the face of man," departed to enjoy the fruition of those promises and hopes, in listening to which he expired.

Thus our hearts, though stout and brave,

Yet like muffled drums are beating

Funeral marches to the grave.

The greatest event which ever took place on earth was the death of our Saviour, and on that most solemn occasion he left us an example for our intimation and encouragement. Almost every

scene, was prayer; and in reverential imitation of him we should, when arrested by death, have immediate recourse to supplication, as our only safe refuge, a plank to which we may confidently cling in the shipwreck of our earthly existence. During that hour of utmost extremity not a doubt should rest on our minds, that to earnest, urgent, repeated intercession, from the inmost recesses of the soul, for ourselves and others, an answer in peace will be granted, such peace as thousands, amidst the brightest prosperities of life, have gone out of this world without ever having known.

A pleasing Christian custom long existed in Russia that in every city or village throughout the empire, on Easter-day, friends all met with these words of salutation, "Christ is risen!" This habit is said to have existed for centuries, keeping up the grateful remembrance of an event which is much more than a mere historical fact, being the good news on which, in truth, every mortal must depend for peace here and happiness hereafter. God gave but six days to the creation of the whole world, but he was 4000 years preparing for its redemption. What Christian therefore can sufficiently measure its vast and unbounded importance to himself individually, though that which we cannot fully comprehend may, nevertheless, be gratefully enjoyed, as the traveller,