pecting growth in spirituality from the self-contrived injury of bodily and mental health, will, on the contrary, tend to improve that health, and make both body and mind more apt and fitting instruments for doing God's work upon earth. Let us see, then, how the discipline of daily life is brought to bear against the sin of self-indulgence; how the burden of the daily cross marks out to us the heavendirected path of mortification. There is no doubt that, it would be much easier for you to execute plans of self-denial invented by yourself, but they would for that reason alone be less spiritually profitable, besides being possibly injurious to health of mind and body, instead of being favourable to both, as is the self-denial suggested to you, if not imposed upon you by the discipline of daily life. There are few acts of self-indulgence that have a worse effect, both on mind and body, than the sacrifice of time to more than the needful number of hours of sleep. Is it a part of your daily discipline to experience, as many do, excessive annoyance from being compelled to early rising, by the habits of your household? If, however, you were not unconsciously cherishing a soft, luxurious tone of physical feeling through the other parts of the day, you would feel it useful and not irksome, to begin your waking hours with an exertion of self-denial. Those, however, who are only engaged in the ordinary cares of life, can form little idea how much greater "wear and tear" of spirits and energy is involved in mental exertions, and the consequent increase of rest in sleep they render necessary. If intellectual labour be your lot, it is important to secure whatever quantity of sleep the day's exhaustion renders necessary; and self-indulgence will be equally avoided, by deciding on a fixed time for rising, and firmly adhering to the self-imposed rule. Self-indulgence in food is the error of many who are comparatively indifferent to so low a gratification, and who err merely from want of thought in keeping the principle of self-denial always alive in the mind. It has been recommended* that some one thing that pleases the palate should be given up at every meal. It would be better, if this plan be adopted, that the one thing avoided should be probably injurious to health, thus enhancing self-denial by prudence. To many people, however, even this trifling act of selfdenial is not left to their own choice: an impaired constitution obliges them to follow the directions of others, either as cure or prevention. Is it a part of the discipline of daily life to you, to see the table covered with delicacies that suit and tempt your taste, and yet be forbidden to touch them? It is not a subject likely to recur at other times, but when eating is *Bishop Wilson's Sacra Privata. L the object of the hour it may be a real annoyance, to be forbidden every thing that would make the occupation agreeable. Therefore, the spirit often rebels against the imposed restrictions, and even when they are not transgressed, there is a feeling of irritation excited, sometimes even a sense of injustice. These feelings may at once reveal to us that self-indulgence is the habitual tone of the mind. The daily cross to be taken up is forgotten, or not considered applicable to such insignificant annoyances, as if any thing could be insignificant that betrays the "spirit ye are of,"* or gives an opportunity of subduing what is amiss in it. It is, however, in self-indulgence of a different class that the characters I principally address are far more likely to require and therefore to experience discipline. The indolence that often accompanies high intellectual powers, the instinctive dislike *Luke, iv. 55. to common-place exertion, to ordinary duties, this is the most dangerous species of self-indulgence, and by far the most difficult to conquer. To those who have hitherto yielded to such self-indulgence, their "daily cross" will easily reveal the fault they are guilty of. For to them some simple and needful duty of life will probably be a constant part of the "daily cross. Watch yourself, therefore, through this day's discipline, and observe which of the duties that you know to be incumbent upon you, is either reluctantly fulfilled, or evaded altogether. Why does that fulfilment of comparatively easy duty cause you so much pain? There may be nothing in it of either hardship or unpleasantness, but the habitual tone of your mind being that of self-indulgence, and not of selfdenial, you find opposition to the continual enjoyment of your own peculiar pursuits and tastes, not only irksome, but excitative of a sense of injustice in those who enforce |