self-consciousness which will occasionally flash upon the spirit, awaking in solitude and in silence, a silence broken only by the ticking of a watch, it is hard to escape the thought, That watch is measuring my allotted moments, they are passing, they will soon be past; and then I shall awake in eternity.

King Solomon, the wisest of the human race, rich, powerful, and peaceful, applied the energies of his ingenious and mighty mind to search out happiness, that happiness for which every heart naturally longs. He sought it, both where philosophers, and where the sons of folly have sought it. He sought it in the lust of the flesh, and of the eyes, and in the pride of life: in the exercise of the domestic and social affections, in riches and in fame, and in the stores of knowledge, and the gratifications of intellect; and he confessed, that from none of these things could man derive any pleasure, unless God vouchsafed the capability of enjoyment; and that, being fugitive and imperfect, all these delights in their fullest fruition were "vanity and vexation of spirit," and that in God alone is happiness.

There are very few men who have not proved the truth of those words, in which even intelligent children have found the echo of their own experience of the tedious tautology of this world's events. "One generation passeth away, and another generation cometh: but the earth abideth

for ever. The sun also ariseth, and the sun goeth down, and hasteth to his place where he arose. The wind goeth toward the south, and turneth about unto the north; it whirleth about continually, and the wind returneth again, according to his circuits. All the rivers run into the sea; yet the sea is not full; unto the place from whence the rivers come, thither they return again. All things are full of labour, man cannot utter it: the eye is not satisfied with seeing, nor the ear filled with hearing. The thing that hath been, it is that which shall be; and that which is done is that which shall be done: and there is no new thing under the sun." Eccles. i. 4-9.

XI.-ON SOCIETY.

THE small circle of our habitual society is the world, to the temptations of which we are most exposed. The imagination of what certain persons may say of us, or think of us, if we do this or that, naturally succeeds the mental projection of any new course of conduct. It necessarily follows, that our notions being thus modified by the censorship of opinion, our conduct and character become upon the whole conformed to the standard of our social circle. When these opinions are opposed to the precepts of piety, and with a mind recently enlightened by divine truth, a heart just beginning to glow with gratitude and love to God, the young Christian quitting the solitude of his chamber, finds every feeling jarred by the rude stroke of contradiction, it seems to him like the tocsin of war to a timid and unprepared general; it is indeed the commencement of a conflict which only the close of life's long day will end.

The heart's natural feelings meet, in the tenderness of amity, with what is suitable and gratifying

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to them; its corrupt inclinations find in the tice or plausible excuses of other men what answers their desires; the affections cling to both these objects, to combat both is unnatural; to distinguish between them is often difficult, and seems to the fettered heart and bewildered understanding almost impossible. The light of truth which has been enkindled in the believer's soul is at first faint and flickering, and shows indistinctly and dimly the lines and colours of surrounding objects; by degrees gaining strength and steadiness, it reveals one after another, his own sins, and with them, those sins of other men which often prove his most seductive temptations. If the evil heart within did not incline to the sins of an evil world without, how short, how easy would be the Christian's contest! But so it is: and though habitually watching against the allurements which Satan, that keen observer, is ever skilfully adapting to the character of each individual, and to the peculiar circumstances of every hour, the Christian's heart frequently betrays him, and causes work for long and bitter repentance.

No one can read the life of Napoleon without observing his constant and ardent desire to live in the idea of other men as a hero. The same prevailing passion may be detected in most persons whose private annals have explained their public actions. We may see it in our associates. We may discover it in ourselves. One of its worst fea

tures is that it aspires to apparent, rather than to real glory. The difference between this ambition in an emperor and a private man, consists only in the more or less numerous minds in which the image is reflected.

In the society of those whom he respects and loves, a person of sanguine temperament will be led to live to them, to make their approval the sole object, for the time, of his desire and endeavour; in fact to commit idolatry, showing that strongest proof of real worship, conformity to the character adored. This infatuation may last but for an hour, yet is it grievous sin, more guilty doubtless in the sight of God, than many offences which human laws have branded with open shame. He would not dare, if he distinctly thought of God as a Father and a Saviour, to act thus; but the cloud of unbelief rests upon him, and making no comparison, and thinking of none, he prefers the creature to the Creator in the sight of a jealous God. The like danger in a greater or less degree, awaits every one in all society, and hence arise our inducements to become passively, if not actively, "partakers of other men's sins." When the affections and will are at work to bias the understanding, it often plays the Jesuit with itself as plausibly, as sophistically, as effectually as Le Moine or Escobar could do.

But strong as the attractive influences of society prove, it has also repellent powers. Rivalry, envy,