VI.-ON EQUANIMITY.

DR. JOHNSON defines equanimity to be "evenness of mind, neither elated nor depressed." Sir R. Steele says, "It is a virtue which is necessary at every hour, in every place, and in all conversations, and is the effect of a regular and exact prudence." Tatler, 176. The same author aptly terms it, in No. 143 of the Spectator, "Sobriety of heart." It is intended here to bring together a few thoughts upon the duty of maintaining this habitual evenness of mind in the ordinary occurrences of life.

Equanimity comprehends in itself many other Christian virtues such as meekness, gentleness, temperance, charity, and contentment; and involves that quality which though not actually a part of the Christian's armour, furnishes as it were straps and buckles for it all: consistency.

The duty of acquiring such a state of mind should not be pressed upon Christians, from the example of persons whose tempers accommodate themselves almost without effort to varying circumstances, and who naturally prefer any little

sacrifice to that of the chief source of happiness they possess, their good humour. Such persons commonly bear the light gales of vexation well, but are at once shaken and overthrown by the tempest of great tribulation.

Nor should the stoics be exalted into models, who, seeking after happiness, imagined that they found it in self-government, and in an equable and contented frame of spirit; they mistook a fair causeway for a dwelling place. Even now, their sect with its errors, is far from being extinct. But Christians should be humbled when they see the self-control of the irreligious, and reflect upon their own superior principles and privileges. We admire, though without surprise, the patient endurance of the martyrs, for the Almighty God was their strength; but it shames us when we think of the constancy of an Aristides and a Socrates, and of the very boys of Sparta: their inclinations were more completely subjected to their understanding than those of many a Christian are, yet they walked in darkness, and worshipped demons, and we have the light of life, and the proffered aid of God the Holy Ghost. The gospel, when it exercises its due influence, brings into subjection every thought to the obedience of Christ. Ours is not a religion of forms and ceremonies, of times and seasons; the effect of its doctrines upon the heart must be evidenced by its paramount, its allpervading power over the life.

It is not enough that our lips confess a right faith, that our observance of external ordinances agrees with our profession; that in life's most trying circumstances, "in trouble, sorrow, need, sickness, or any other adversity," the humbled heart bows down before God, and says, "Thy will be done." The difficulty of such submission will be greatly increased, while its testimony for God's glory will be counteracted by the agitation and rebellion against his providence, which every trivial circumstance of daily life has power to stir up, and every child has sufficient acumen to remark. But if we are Christ's, we are wholly his. If the subjection of our will to God's be ever necessary, it is so at all times and in all things. His providence directs the vexatious shower of rain, and the ill-timed visitor, as certainly as it rules the issue of life and death.

Alas! we know these truths, and we often feel them too; but every opposing breath diverts us from our purpose, and makes shipwreck of our good intentions. While things go smoothly, when friends smile upon us, and the sunshine cheers us, and there is fair weather also, and sunshine in our own bosoms, it is easy to avoid that one great inconsistency, ill humour, though care be needful to guard against another, levity of spirit: but when troubles have worn our hearts, and vexations have harassed them, when our associates are wayward and whimsical, when November gloom

scowls in the sky, and the keen north-easter searches our bones, and when we feel within us mists and storms independent of seasons and circumstances, then to be kind, forbearing and cheerful, proves the influence of our principles upon our practice, shows that we are indeed the children of God, and that Divine Grace allows not sin to have dominion over us.

Perhaps one reason why we bear life's little ills so impatiently is this, we do not acknowledge God's hand in them; we regard them either as springing from the will of our fellow-creatures, or as occurring by a kind of fatality.

We should be shocked at the idea of yielding assent to the Romish distinction between mortal and venial sins, yet we practically approve it, when instead of seeking that Divine aid to which under impending misfortune we should instantly resort, we yield to petulance, or suffer our spirits to be agitated and depressed by the petty obstacles encountered by self-will, saying to conscience, should it smite us for the fault, Is it not a little one? Such conduct seems to say, Lord, govern life's great events as thou wilt, but leave us the control of its little ones. Nothing is so elastic, so irrepressible as self-will. The waters of trouble may flow over it, but like the arches of an aqueduct, it feels the pressure only as an incentive to resistance. Many a hard heart has become yet harder by affliction. And even after Divine

Grace has changed the heart of stone into one of flesh, "this infection of nature doth remain," and is continually manifesting itself in opposition to the will of God. Self-will must be subdued, and every little encouragement afforded to it does but increase the weight of our next affliction. Every cross accident that befalls us, be it only the breaking of a cup, or the cutting of one's finger, is a necessary though minute part of that great system of moral discipline, by which Divine providence and grace are concurring to form in us those capabilities of enjoyment which are to be exercised in a future, immortal state of being. A statuary works with very delicate tools, and by almost imperceptible strokes, in perfecting his figures; and the importance of events can only be justly estimated by the effects which they produce upon the character. As, according to a great author, the man who can carry a calf, may in time be able to sustain the weight of an ox; and he who begins with simple facts, may gradually attain to the most abstruse parts of learning: so, it would appear that the powerful influence of habit is not to be undervalued in religion; and he who can by God's help endure with uncomplaining cheerfulness a peevish friend, a careless servant, or a smoky chimney, has learned the rudiments of that long-suffering patience which may hereafter appear illustrious in calamity.

Yet how few professing Christians can give a