maining portion will probably be, in a natural sense, of a much worse quality. Therefore, as the effect of all this, my attachment to this life is loosening, and the attraction of another is augmenting."

Now, if it was desirable that we should be able to say this at the recent close of the last year, is it not still more desirable we should, at the close of the present ? And then we shall be able to say, in addition, "I am glad the year is gone."

Now it must be seen, by a considerate mind, that such as these are the conditions on which the sentence will be true, "Better is the end of a thing than the beginning." And how exceedingly desirable that such might be the case with us, if we close this year on earth! But this will not be by the mere passing of the time. It is important to consider that this state of things at the end cannot be expected unless it is realized in a due degree, in the successive parts. Are we beginning the year in such a spirit and plan? If there has been a melancholy failure in past years, how has it happened? All this cannot be, without our maintaining a habitual serious reference to the end of life itself. cannot be, without an earnest religious discipline of our souls. It cannot be, without the Divine Power working and for us. And what shall impel us to desire and seek that blessed influence, if not such considerations as

in us,

the preceding?

It

The concluding admonition is,-that we may not in this world attain the end of the year. Hence the necessity (as noted above) that each small portion of life should close under the same circumstances ("Better, &c.) as the

entire year.

The sublime of the sentence will be in the case of those who, beginning this year on earth, will at the end of it be in heaven.

January 3rd, 1822.

11

LECTURE II.

THE SUPREME ATTACHMENT DUE TO SPIRITUAL OBJECTS.

COLOSSIANS iii. 2.

"Set your affection on things above, not on things on the earth."

How momentous a charge is it that is imposed in the injunction to dispose rightly of the affection of a human soul! A charge which we cannot at our choice take upon us, or decline, since we have the soul, and the charge is inseparable.

Sometimes we may have looked at some affair of a merely worldly nature, with self-gratulation that we were not obliged to undertake it. "It involves so much skill-such continual attention-such hazard-such sad consequences in the event of failure! happily the business is not mine." It were well that in such a case, the thought should occur, "But there

may be a business of mine! Where have my affections been to-day? Where are they at this hour? Where have they been all my life? Where will they be if I let them alone ?"

Affection is the going out of the soul (so to speak) in sentiments of interest, complacency, and desire, toward objects within its view. Love to self, indeed, is always said to be the primary and strongest affection of our nature; and truly. But, then, what is the manner of action of this self-love? It is not that the affection stays enclosed, acting in and upon our very self. The affection, then, is the going out of the soul.

Now, how happy were it if the case were thus with us;

namely, that the affection of the soul might go out just at its own pleasure, and all be right and safe. This is supposing that a comprehensive, discriminating, and indeed, infallible perception, accompanied necessarily all the goings out of affection; and also, that the moral taste (shall we call it) of the soul always strictly agreed with its intellectual discernment; in short, that the soul possessed a grand moral instinct. The consequence would be, that all things affecting the soul, in the way of attracting it, would affect it right. Nothing would attract it which ought not; it would be in repulsion to all evil; and those things which did attract, and justly might, would do so in the right degrees and proportion so far, and no further; with so much force, and no more; and with an unlimited force that alone which is the supreme good. What a glorious condition this! And this must be the state of good men in a future world, else there would be temptation, trial, hazard, and the possibility of falling.

But what a dreadful contrast to all this is our present state! As one great circumstance, our nature, composed of two kinds of being, places us in relation-strict relation—to two quite different economies. It is true, the combination -the union of the two-does, in many respects, make them, to a wonderful degree, feel and act as one; but still, it is no such union of the two kinds of being, as to combine perfectly into one harmonious interest the relations to the two economies. The man is not so one, his combined nature does not so act as one, as to reduce the two diverse classes of interests to one blended inseparable order, so that each movement of the soul, with respect to either, should necessarily have due respect to both. No-no! the relations. stand distinct, separate, and, in a very great degree, foreign to each other. Therefore, there is great difficulty and hazard as to the apportioning of the regards to these classes respec

tively; great difficulty of maintaining such a state and exercise of the affections as should comprehend, in due order and proportion, both these great classes.

Another obvious and most important circumstance is, that by the one part of our nature, our relation to the one class of interests is immediate and sensible; while our other grand relation, being to things far less palpable-to things spiritual, invisible, and as it were remote is to be apprehended only through the medium of serious thought and faith. This is a circumstance of formidable omen, even under the best supposable condition, of our nature thus compounded and situated. Even in that case, there would seem to be required a special unremitted divine influence to preserve it right. How should there not be a constant mighty tendency to a wrong preponderance !

But this is not all. Our nature is immeasurably far from being in that "best supposable state." Our nature is sunk into such a state, that it has a most mighty and obstinate tendency to give itself wholly to the inferior, temporal class of its interests. In one act of its affection, and in the next, and in a hundred successively, its preference will go to the inferior; and the effect of this tendency, uncounteracted, is to throw the supreme interests, and the soul itself, away. This is a fearful predicament! One should imagine it could not be thought of without terror. One would imagine that the terror of it (if any reason or right feeling were left in man) would make the doctrine of divine, transforming, assisting grace, to be welcomed with enthusiasm. Except in reliance on this, we should hear with utter despair the injunction, "Set your affection on things above, not on things on the earth."

This remains the sovereign duty, the comprehensive precept, to us sojourners on earth. Let us attend a few moments to the subject and application of this command:

In the first place;-an indiscreet language may have sometimes been used by pious men and teachers, not maintaining exactly a due regard to the limitations on the latter part of the precept; a language to the effect, almost, of requiring an absolute entire indifference, or contempt, to all terrestrial things; insomuch, that the considerate reader, or hearer, has been saying within himself, "Now that is strictly impossible," or "absurd." According to this, there is an essential, insuperable inconsistency between our duty and the very condition in which God has placed us. Sometimes this language of excess has been, we may venture to say, a rather unthinking repetition of a kind of commonplace; but often it has had a better origin, such as the retired, contemplative, devout life of some good men. (The language of religion has had a particular advantage in this respect, when it has come from enlightened and pious men, who have had much to do in the world-for example, Sir Matthew Hale.) Or it may have had its origin in short occasional seasons of peculiarly elevated feeling; or in the state of feeling produced in good men by affliction, calamity, and persecution.

But it is disserviceable to religion thus to preach, as it were, an annihilation of our interests in this world. They have claims, and they will make them good in defiance, whether allowed or not. But these claims must be allowed. Think in how many ways we are made susceptible of pleasure and pain from "the things on the earth;" and to what an amount, in passing fifty, sixty, or seventy years upon it. Now we may surely believe that, fallen and guilty as we are, our Creator does not will the pleasure denied, or the pain endured, more than is inevitable to our mortal condition, or disciplinary toward our future life. And therefore we may, in regulated measure, desire the pleasing, and be anxious to avoid the painful.