for this danger, and, by withdrawing attention from the drudgery of worldly employments, gives ample scope for the exercise of the mental powers. A new train of thought is excited, which circumstance is of itself a means of arousing the energies of man. The current of ideas, which, flowing continually in one and the same course, benumbs every faculty of the soul, is diverted into a different and pleasing channel. The very change is awakening, and the mind, through the excitement of a pleasurable emotion, opens and expands with unshackled freedom. The intellect is invigorated by whatever rouses it from the torpor of a uniform train of thought. Nor is this excitation the only advantage; the multiplied means of instruction afforded by the sabbath must operate extensively in the moral culture of the people. Supplying a grateful relief to the body, it stimulates the mind to activity, and to such activity as promotes the civilities of social intercourse. Combining all these things together, it would be difficult to point out aught which has a more powerful influence in urging on the career of national improvement.

But the greatest benefit of the sabbath, and that which renders it a real blessing, is its being destined to moral and religious edification. Of all important matters the most important, and of all needful concerns the most needful, is religion.

favourable to the due subordination which must exist in every well-governed state. On the sabbath each cottage assumes its neatest trim; the inmates put off their ordinary garb, every individual being anxious to appear in their best apparel; and the love of dress, sometimes indeed absurd, and sometimes culpable, yet in the degree it obtains among the poor is generally a stimulus to frugality, cleanliness, and industry. The cottager, resting from his toils, and adorned in his best attire, feels himself raised in the order of being; he becomes of more importance in his own estimation; he sees in himself the dignity of human nature; feelings always to be encouraged in connection with religious principle, inasmuch as they are instrumental to the moral and intellectual advancement of the species.

It is impossible, as it should seem, to raise the lower orders in the scale of civilization, without providing them with the opportunity of a frequent disengagement of mind. If the attention were constantly fixed upon one, and, generally speaking, dull occupation, the mind, from want of excitement, would seldom rise above the level of the uncultivated barbarian. The faculties, being ever limited to one routine of objects, would be incapable of enlarging their intellectual sphere, and by consequence incapable of intellectual improvement. But the sabbath provides a remedy

for this danger, and, by withdrawing attention from the drudgery of worldly employments, gives ample scope for the exercise of the mental powers. A new train of thought is excited, which circumstance is of itself a means of arousing the energies of man. The current of ideas, which, flowing continually in one and the same course, benumbs every faculty of the soul, is diverted into a different and pleasing channel. The very change is awakening, and the mind, through the excitement of a pleasurable emotion, opens and expands with unshackled freedom. The intellect is invigorated by whatever rouses it from the torpor of a uniform train of thought. Nor is this excitation the only advantage; the multiplied means of instruction afforded by the sabbath must operate extensively in the moral culture of the people. Supplying a grateful relief to the body, it stimulates the mind to activity, and to such activity as promotes the civilities of social intercourse. Combining all these things together, it would be difficult to point out aught which has a more powerful influence in urging on the career of national improvement.

But the greatest benefit of the sabbath, and that which renders it a real blessing, is its being destined to moral and religious edification. Of all important matters the most important, and of all needful concerns the most needful, is religion.

Amid the diversified ranks of society, and through all the chequered scenes of life, from the monarch to the mendicant, from the cradle to the grave, it is the vivifying principle of spiritual health and enjoyment. Without the softening influence of religion, the great and powerful become the scourges of the human race, capricious in their tyranny, licentious in their cruelty, implacable in their revenge. Without religion the active and aspiring press onwards, unrestrained in their pursuits, boastful of honour, yet as much the slaves of selfishness as obsequious to the whirlwind of their passions. Without religion the learned and contemplative but abuse their powers; whether penetrating the mines of science, or exploring the regions of literature, in heart they are unsanctified; their intellectual ken, though piercing the confines of illimitable space, never soaring to heaven; and in their most admired researches, in their proudest attainments, diffusing a poison the more deadly as it is the more subtile, and the more dangerous by being disguised among the flowers plucked from the gardens of learning. Where religion is wanting, all is wanting that dignifies man, all that ennobles his nature by unequivocal distinction, above the herds that graze the field, or that roam the forest.

To preserve a sense of religion upon the mind, and to foster its influence, which is apt to be

subdued by the distractions of the world, some portion of time must be dedicated to sacred offices. Were this omitted, the voice sounding forth in such sweet and soothing accents in the word of God would be drowned amid the clamour of earthly occupations. The evangelic call would be made in vain to men wholly immersed in care and business, or giddy with the incessant round of amusement and voluptuousness. Opportunity, then, must be afforded both for the religious instruction of the many, and for the renewal of those holy impressions which, even in the sincerely pious, would decay in an uninterrupted intercourse with the world. In this pilgrimage of life it is no easy task to preserve an abiding sense of religion, and to acquire a heavenly-mindedness while surrounded with so many things to retard the Christian's progress. The world is ever stealing in upon the affections, pleasure allures, interest tempts, cares perplex; a variety of objects which lie around in gay and enticing profusion, find too ready an entrance into the heart; and the soul, even in its very aspirations to Heaven, is often compelled to struggle against the intrusion of the senses. Every candidate in the Christian race must have experienced this; and is it too much to infer that, if the weekly day appointed for the spiritual nourishment of the soul were rendered common, scarcely any would persevere