ost and violated Sabbaths. And, to ascend to more levated considerations, can it be seriously imagined hat the poor, disappointing, and disquieting diverions of a light and unholy mind, can be compared ith the satisfaction and joy of "seeing the beauty of the Lord, and inquiring for salvation in his emple ?" "But, alas!" replies the sorrowful obector," although I know it would be eventually better for me to be religious in earnest, I cannot yet make the surrender. I have so much to give up: every thing, indeed, that is most dear to me. I would fast and pray, and submit to painful penances, if that would suffice; but how can I tear myself from those very things that make life agreeable to me? Could I become indifferent to admiration ? -the very food which sustains my happiness.Could I resign things that are inexpressively dear and interesting? I might indeed cut off a right hand, and pluck out a right eye, but how could I sacrifice the whole of my earthly enjoyment ?"

And is it, then, the case that the yoke of Christ implies such a sacrifice? or does it not rather rectify the mistakes we make respecting the nature of happiness, and purify the vitiated taste which enables us to relish unsanctified pleasures? The Saviour says, "Seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all other things shall be added unto you :" and he adds that, "they who resign all for him shall receive manifold more in this present life." And how strikingly do we sometimes see this promise fulfilled! Persons who have made an early and a complete surrender of their bodies and spirits

to the Lord, are not unfrequently distinguished by his providential favours from those who have shrun from the sacrifice. And what is the sacrifice? No the common comforts of life; not the endearing re lations of society; not the enjoyments of rationa intercourse; not the pleasures of taste or the pursuit of knowledge. No surrender of these, wisely an moderately used, is now generally required. Fo these are not the days in which the disciples of th Lord are honoured with such high tests of thei fidelity and love as distinguished the Christians o other times. With respect to all these lawful com forts, the wise and merciful commands of ou Saviour impose those restraints only which are ne cessary to the true enjoyment of them ;-which are essential to our welfare, and to all that is amiable sterling, and dignified in the character. It is true that vanity must be subdued; but does not the indulgence of it render us contemptible in the eyes of others; and is it not a ceaseless source of disquietude and mortification to ourselves? How peaceful is that breast that is freed from its emotions How respectable the character that rises superior to its low artifices and mean desires! How easy then, and necessary is the yoke which religion imposes in these respects!

But how much difficulty is implied, it may be said, in the command "to love our neighbour as ourselves, and to do to others as we would they should do to us!" Who is sufficient for this in its full and spiritual extent! What! to forego every selfish action, to quench every uncharitable thought,

suppress the ill-natured conjecture, to withhold e smart satire, to rejoice in the prosperity of a val, to sympathise in the success of a competitor; hat unremitting watchfulness, what difficult selfnial must this require! But then, consider how uch would be gained by the suppression of those fish and disquieting passions which reign, and ten rage in the unsubdued mind. What peace and anquillity are possessed by the consistent selfenying Christian! he is, in a manner, invulnerable a thousand points where others are incessantly Wounded. He escapes the bitter mortifications, the harp retaliations, the disappointments and chagrins which incessantly disturb their repose. While he enjoys the esteem and love of society; peace in his conscience; and the hope of an eternal reward. But love to God and to our neighbour includes also, activity in their service. "And is this a light burden?" it may be asked by the indolent and pleasure-loving spectator of the diligent exertions of others." Is it easy and pleasant to devote all the intervals of Sabbath services to the drudgery of teaching? Is it agreeable to visit hovels and prisons -the disgusting abodes of disease and wretchedness?" Let the serenity, the cheerfulness, the happiness, that beam in the countenances of those who are most eminently distinguished by these exertions, answer the question. And let them at the same time be contrasted with the lassitude, the discontent, the uneasiness and restlessness, visible in those who have long made their own ease and gratification the chief object of their pursuit in life.

The point in debate has been here argued on th low ground of self-interest, in order to meet reasonings of those who are not sensible to high motives. But let us, in conclusion, hear the la guage of experienced and exalted piety :-" The are many that say, Who will shew us any good Lord, lift thou up the light of thy countenan upon us, and it shall put more gladness in o hearts, than in the time when their corn and the wine and their oil increased."

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XXIII.

MATTHEW XXV. 2.

AND FIVE OF THEM WERE WISE, AND FIVE WERE FOOLISH.

WE are accustomed to employ a great variet of terms, and to make many nice distinctions it describing the varying shades of human character But the language of the Bible never descends t those particulars. It does not recognize thest minute differences to which, in judging of each other, we attach so much importance. "The right eous and the wicked, the just and the unjust, the sheep and the goats-he that feareth the Lord, and he that feareth him not," such are the concise distinctions which divide the whole human race in the estimation of the Judge of all the earth. The text furnishes us with one of a similar kind-" The wise and the foolish."

It is exceedingly probable that if the ten virgins. whom this brief account is given, had been deribed by some human observer, there would have en distinct characters drawn; and it is not very alikely, that the statement of the text would then ave been directly reversed; and that the five wise ould have been called the five foolish. One of em, perhaps, would have been pronounced a hyporite; another an enthusiast; another a bigot; the burth melancholy; and the fifth mad. While the ther five, who were, perhaps, "wiser in their geneation than these children of light," might have een the subjects of high encomiums; for it often appens that those things which are "abomination n the sight of God, are highly esteemed amongst men." One of them, it may be, would have been extolled for her grace and beauty; another for her distinguished attainments; a third for her wit and gaiety;

a fourth for her engaging manners; and a fifth for her spirit and independence. However this might be, their characters are very concisely, and certainly very faithfully summed up by Him to whom all hearts are open; passing over unimportant shades of difference, he declares that, "five of them were wise, and five were foolish."

God alone knows the worth of the soul that He has made. He alone can duly estimate the treasures of immortal happiness that are at stake; or comprehend the terrors of his impending wrath. Nothing therefore, in His mind, is wisdom but that conduct which secures his favour; and the deepest folly, that which risks the loss of it. Thus