How often are persons heard to say of certain amusements or employments of questionable propriety, that they are sure they receive no injury from them, however it may be with others. But how came they to the knowledge of this fact? And why do they speak so positively? They may not be conscious of the injury, and yet it may be received. True, the amusement or employment in question, may not maim any member of the body-may not infuriate any passion of the heart; but how can they say that it does not exert any evil influence on the easily susceptible and finely fibred soul? This is not a matter to be decided by feeling. Take for illustration, the habit of attending upon theatrical amusements, or the practice of romance and novel reading. Many contend that both of these are harmless. Without attempting now to prove their hurtfulness, (though I firmly believe it) it may be confidently asserted, that their hurtfulness or innocence cannot be determined by the feelings of persons, while thus employed. The question can only be determined by inquiring into the nature and tendencies of these things, and by carefully investigating the character formed under such influences. If the scenes presented and sentiments expressed at a theatre, or in an amatory novel, can be proved to have a tendency to injure the soul, (and what is more susceptible of injury?) it is absurd to say that they do not injure any particular individual. They do; but here is the secret of the matter. They injure in a way which the individual not only is not conscious of, but cares nothing about. For example, they kill the spirit of devotion, estrange

the soul from God, neutralize and secularize the mind, not affecting, perhaps, the morals of the life, but corrupting the morals of the heart, and hardening it, not tọ every kind of impression, but to the peculiar impressions of religion. For the heart may be all alive to some kinds of good feeling, such as friendships and pity, while it is as dead as death itself to other kinds of praiseworthy emotion, such as the love of God and of Jesus Christ. Now what do the great multitude care for such effects as these, even should they admit them to be produced? Nothing. Therefore they resort to the theatre and devour romances.

PERVERSIONS.

How many are guilty of the folly of regarding privileges as pledges-present favors as earnests of future blessedness. They suppose that there is no danger of God's changing his method of dealing with them—that being so indulgent to them now, he will never cease to be so. They forget the difference between probation and retribution. They forget that "there are first, that shall be last," and that some "who are exalted to honor, shall be cast down to hell."

You cannot scourge yourself into the favor of God, nor emaciate yourself into acceptance with him.

Men are often willing to do towards securing salvation, more than is required of them, if they but be permitted to do it according to their own mind and in their own manner. They are agreed to strive to enter in at the strait gate, if they may do it in their own way. It is not to the amount, but to the nature of the requisitions of the Gospel, that they are averse. They are ready to make sacrifices of property and personal comfort, to almost any extent, if these things may but be the price of their redemption.

SELF-DECEPTION.

It is a melancholy and mortifying fact, that men, not only may be and often are deceived, but may and often do, deceive themselves. The cheat and dupe is frequently the same identical individual. And greater is the danger of self-deception, than of deception from any other source. The world is deceitful—riches are deceitful-the devil is deceitful, but the heart is decitful above all things. We are liable to be imposed on by other intelligent beings. We are still more exposed to imposition from ourselves.

How many hopes are built on the wreck of the Bible. Strange that any should content themselves with the mere profession and form of Christianity, when so large

a part of our Lord's instructions are intended to show the fallacy of hopes having no better basis.

It is not difficult to imitate Christianity so far as to deceive others. Yea, and to delude our own souls is perhaps still easier. This is a fearful fact, the knowledge of which should cause every one to look well to the foundation of his hopes.

Scarcely a week passes, in which the newspapers, in their obituary notices, do not express sentiments, from which, if true, it would follow conclusively, that the mission of the Son of God to our world, and especially his death, were entirely needless-sentiments utterly subversive of the Gospel, and yet they are mistaken by many for Christian sentiments.

Many saw Christ on earth, who will never see him but once more, when he shall sit upon the throne of judgment; and then will wish they might not see him; they will call upon the rocks and mountains to fall on them and hide them from his face.

Self-knowledge is the most difficult of all knowledge, and self-government the most difficult of all govern

ment.

It is sometimes said of one that he has a good heart, although his life is very far from being good; as if it were probable that such evil should proceed from a good heart-such corrupt streams flow from a pure fountain.

Oh, ye, who go lazily and luxuriously along, ye will never enter heaven at that rate.

It is wonderful how easily men are persuaded that all will be well with them hereafter. They are satisfied

that they shall be happy forever, on evidence that would not satisfy them of the certainty of any other thing whatsoever. They often build their hopes of heaven on a foundation, which they would not trust for one of all their worldly expectations.

I have sometimes thought if the Young Ruler (see Matt. xix, 16-22,) had only lived in the nineteenth century, how differently he would have been treated by our ecclesiastical authorities. They would not have sent him away; they are too anxious to make disciples, and too accommodating in their terms. If he had come with the inquiry, "What lack I yet?" to one church, they would have told him that nothing was wanting but to be of their communion. If he had applied in another quarter, he would have heard this soothing reply to his question, "Why give yourself all this anxiety, young man ?—why make all this ado ?—you are all that God requires you to be there never was a more blameless young man—or, if you do come short in any particular, he is a merciful being, he will certainly overlook your failings-you have nothing to fear he never made you to be damned." Probably he might have gone still further with his question, before he would have received a scriptural answer to it.