not his brother whom he hath seen, how can he love God whom he hath not seen?" How often have we seen the usefulness of Christians lamentably circumscribed through the want of a kind and affectionate spirit? There are those who need nothing but brotherly kindness to make them patterns of every thing that is praiseworthy. I know that the constitutional temperament of good men is various; but there is no apology for the man whose external light is on the wane, because the glow of kindness declines within. You live in such an evil world—a world where there are so many occurrences that are unavoidably painful-so many wrongs to be encountered and forgiven, and where there are such frequent requisitions for the exercises of a kind spirit, that if you do not take special care to cultivate it, all the better feelings of your hearts will be suppressed, and the manly and generous spirit of a heaven-born religion will lose its glory in the envyings and suspicions of an earthly and selfish mind.

Would Christians be useful, let them beware of an earthly mind. Let them cherish a habitual impression of the vanity and unsatisfying nature of all earthly things. Let them set their affections on things above, not on things on the earth. Nor is the providence of God in this respect at all at war with his word. God does not require Christians to depreciate worldly good; to exclude themselves from human society; to immure themselves in cloisters, for the sake of mortifying an earthly, and nurturing a heavenly mind. It is altogether a mistaken view of their duty that has induced some persons to retire altogether from the world, and to renounce all the intercourse and activity of social life. The Author of our nature has with wonderful wisdom adjusted the claims of eternity and time to the relations which his people sustain to both worlds. He does not require them to disregard their claims of earth. He does not require any such divulsion of our nature as necessarily sets the parts of it in perpetual warfare. The design of the Gospel is to elevate and sanctify the whole man; to give the best and most benevolent direction to our entire existence; to raise up from the ruins of the apostacy a new creature; and to show its power, not in destroying man, but in regenerating him.

Regenerated man is fitted for both worlds. A due regard to the engagements of time does not interfere with the most direct and quiet course toward heaven. The Christian never appears

more in the true glory of his renewed nature than when he carries his religion into the world, and lets his light shine on all the departments of active and secular duty, and there, amid the dust and noise and conflicts of earth, pursues his way toward the skies. It is a much more difficult thing to carry religion into the world than to keep at a distance from the conflict. Religion does not consist in living at a distance from temptation any more than in running needlessly into it; but rather in encountering and overcoming temptation when it plainly meets us in the path of duty. By becoming Christians we do not cease to be men. and the world is every where. derness. It is in the solitude tirement of the closet. It is deep in our own hearts. shall find the world wherever we find our own unhallowed passions-passions which no solitude extinguishes, and which often gather strength from seclusion. No man can run away from the world without running away from himself. The presump

The world has its temptations,

It is in the recesses of the wilof the ocean. It is in the re

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tuous Christian will find the world following him into his retirement; while the subdued and chastened Christian will find, amid all the complications and cares of business, a solitude in his own bosom, a little world of tranquillity within, a retreat more inaccessible than his closet, where, while his body is occupied with its ten thousand labours, his soul lives for God, and where, amid all the confusions of earth, he possesses his mind in peace. There is such a thing as living in the world while in the deepest solitude; and there is such a thing as being in solitude in the midst of the world. What Christians have to guard against is a worldly spirit. This will destroy their usefulness. If their treasure is on earth their hearts will be there. If this world is their aim and object, they can accomplish little as Christians. If they would be useful, their great end and aim must be things unseen. They must not forget their high calling. They must not forget why nor for whom they were sent into the world, but every where so set their affections on things

above, that they shall appear like pilgrims and strangers on the earth.

In concluding these remarks, permit the writer in a word to say that it becomes the people of God to aim to possess that uniformity of character which the Gospel requires. It is worth much effort, watchfulness, and prayer, to guard against the more common faults and blemishes of Christian character. It concerns good men to cultivate every grace and virtue, and to be adorned with all the beauties of holiness. The usefulness of a Christian depends much on this uniformity of character. As "dead flies cause the ointment of the apothecary to send forth a stinking savour, so doth a little folly him that is in repuțation for wisdom and honour." Little things have more to do in the formation of a spotless moral character than we are at once willing to believe. Especially beware of little deviations from sterling rectitude. “He that is faithful in that which is least, is faithful also in that which is much; and he that is unjust in the least, is unjust also in much." It is impossible for the man who neglects little things then to command respect, or to be extensively useful. It is this uniformity of character which conciliates confidence and veneration, and which every where bespeaks a benevolent and elevated mind. Such

a Christian will not live in vain. He may have his superiors in some particular traits of excellence, but in that happy assemblage of excellences that go to form the useful Christian, he is one of the lights of the world. Not merely will he find the light of truth and holiness kindled within his own bosom; but he will become the source of light to others. He will be like a city that is set on a hill. Men will see him, and see him from afar. And when he is removed from this lower sphere, while it will be seen that one of the lights of this world is extinguished, it will be gratefully confessed that it is removed only to shine on a wider and brighter orbit.

THERE is a vast range of moral existences within the Divine empire, from the lowest and vilest to the most pure and exalted. There are also almost endless gradations of happiness and misery, each of which is determined by its distance or nearness to Him who is the source and fountain of all good. If you begin at the lowest point of depression in this vast series you must look into the world of perdition. Of all beings in this universe, these are at the greatest distance from the Father of lights. There is in their moral nature no resemblance to him, no tendency of moral feeling toward him; but rather everything that recoils and starts back from the knowledge and fellowship of the "first Fair and the first Good." They shun the tokens of his presence. And he draws not nigh them, except in the expression of his wrath. His love never cheers those gloomy abodes of malignity and despair. The light of his countenance never darts across the gulf to soothe and refresh their forlorn and desolated minds. The angels of his mercy never pass those adamantine gates, or scale those walls of fire. It is a world of unmingled gloom and terror, of unavailing sighs and bitterest despair. O there is no source of misery deeper than this universal and perfect alienation from God. It flows out in streams of unmingled wormwood and gall. It is a lake of fire. bosoms in which it dwells constitute the most perfectly wretched class of existences in the universe; inhabiting a world every where filled with sighs and anguish-replete with agony-hung round with the symbols of the second death-enveloped alter

It is an ocean of sorrows. The

nately with the blackness of darkness and the lurid corusca→ tions of the flame that is not quenched.

Somewhat above, and just on the confines of these dreary abodes, are the dwellers in pagan lands. There are vast tracts of this inhabited globe that are covered with the vail of ignorance, and beneath which are millions of the human race in spiritual death. Altar after altar may be seen alternately fresh with the blood, putrid with the carcases, and paved with the bones of these deluded victims of idolatry; while at all their shrines, and under the open light of the sun, may be seen licentiousness and pollution in their most degrading and disgusting forms. Henry Martin says, while witnessing the annual festival of one of their deities, "I trembled, as though I was standing within the very precincts of hell!" Even during ages when reason and philosophy swayed their boasted and undisputed sceptre, men the most distinguished for their talents and intellectual endowments were babes in morals and giants in crime. In what a melancholy night, lengthening onwards from age to age, are the poor heathen enshrouded! The few points, thinly scattered over this dreary waste where the light of life rests, appear like beacons kindled to admonish and guide almost a world in darkness. The heavens and the earth do indeed declare the glory of their Maker, but they speak a language too feeble and obscure to find its way to the heart of a benighted pagan. He knows enough to be without excuse, but not enough to be either virtuous, holy, or happy. There is the bitterness of wo in pagan lands. There dwell the children of sorrow. There men sigh and weep, but breathe forth their sighs and shed their tears in vain. There are no beams of truth and mercy there to enlighten their darkness, or dry up the fountains of their grief. To all the light and life and warmth and comfort of Christian hopes they are strangers. They grope for the path of life, but grope, alas, in vain! Upon a still higher elevation you survey those portions of our globe that are illuminated by the Gospel. On all these the Sun of righteousness has arisen with healing in his beams. God is known as the chief good, and as accessible to the rebellious. His word is published; his Sabbaths are instituted;