complicated wants of the heart, the varying capacities of the mind, and all the hopes and longings of the immortal spirit, afford endless opportunities for the true elements of Christ's religion-Love and Self-denial.

Surely, then, we must have somehow forgotten the weightier matters of the Gospel, and have reverted to the old Pharisaic casuistry about "meats and drinks,” "the anise and the cummin," when such painful scrupulosity is exhibited in mere outward ordinances of Church worship, while the great and comparatively deserted path of human fellowship is stretched out before us. This is, after all, the main point. And it speaks badly for all parties, if while they can wrangle about such trifles as St. Paul's "cloak," or, "the parchment that he left at Troas," or, the length of a chasuble, or, the colour of the robe of office, whether it should be white or black, and such like, they, yet, can have so little real love in their hearts for each other, as to regard those who differ from them as if they were scarcely better than wild beasts!

Jansenists and Jesuits, Gallicans and Ultramontanes, Dominicans and Franciscans, hate each other with that refined hatred peculiar to Ecclesiastics! The history of Port Royal, and the long series of persecutions to which the Jansenists were exposed by their brethren in the same Church, shew that even in religious communities

K

sometimes great perverseness dwells. The bickerings and jealousies, the action, and counteraction of the various independent churches, Baptists, Independents, Wesleyans, and so forth, do not add much by way of edification. And the rupture between Free Kirk and the old established Kirk in Scotland has produced bitter fruits that will probably "last for aye.' All this, of course, is both bad and sad. But it is important to ask, is there nothing to account for this anomalous state of things? Yes, we think there is a cause. All this sectarian

wrangling and bitterness of spirit must ultimately be traced to the great disturbing element-SIN-which, coming in among human principles and passions, has disarranged the order and harmony of the Church of God. And, here is just the trial of the faith, and patience of the saints. Sin has marred the peace of the Church by introducing spiritual tyranny and superstition, and, therefore, it is only as the light and the love of the Gospel, infuse principles directly opposed to the effects of sin, that the members of Christ's universal Church, however separated by mechanical boundaries, can prove to the world, that though they are thus artificially divided, yet they are in spirit and in love, united.

When the disciples are urged to " contend earnestly for the faith once delivered to the saints," they are not re

quired by the law of the New Testament to lay aside the essential features of the Christian religion. The weapons of their warfare are said to be altogether spiritual. They are directed to approve themselves good soldiers, “by pureness, by knowledge, by long-suffering, by kindness, by the Holy Ghost, by love unfeigned, by the Word of Truth, by the power of God, by the armour of righteousness on the right hand, and on the left, by honour and dishonour, by evil report and good report.' If these things be in us, and abound, we shall neither be barren nor unfruitful in the real work of the Gospel. Depraved and talented ingenuity, may pervert the truth of God, but neither evil angels, nor evil men can ever neutralize the efficacy of these weapons of the Christian's warfare, or render his arrows pointless. They go straight to the mark, through the joints of the harness, to the hidden man of the heart, and they become mighty through God, to the pulling down of strong holds. In language intelligible to the humblest, and the mightiest they say, "Come along with us; we wish to do thee good." Charity never faileth. When even a portion of true religion itself shall be no longer necessary, this noble disposition will survive for ever,

"When even Faith, and Hope shall die,

Once lost in certainty, and one in joy,

"Twill stand before the Host of Heaven confest,
For ever blessing, and for ever blest."

* 2 Cor. vi., 6, 7, 8.

Finally, It may not be altogether out of place, before drawing the subject of these pages to a close, that we should impress upon our readers the value, and the source of true Religious feeling.

The substance of true religion is, God manifest in the flesh. Have we come into contact with Him? Has the love of God in Christ visited our soul? Can we, by a corresponding elevation of character, bear testimony to its value? Religious feeling derived from any other source, however beautiful it may seem to the eye of man, is but the tinge of the evening cloud that passeth away, and leaves its votary in darkness. But, when it is derived from the living substance of true religion-the Lord Himself—it is as the morning dawn, which shines more and more unto the perfect day!

The Royal Psalmist, sitting on a throne surrounded by the gay, and graceful accompaniments of regal splendour, compares his view of the world to the feeling of a grown child towards the nourishment, for which, he had lost his taste. The Prophet, Agur, prays for deliverance from its allurements. Habakkuk declares the spirit of a believer to be independent of its favours. And, when the Apostle St. Paul would illustrate the state of his mind towards the splendid world in which he figured, he compares it to the view, which a passing stranger might be supposed to take of a dying malefactor, or, the still colder

glance of the same malefactor at the scene around him when his eye is just glazing in death! Have we, then, really come into contact with the substance of true religion? If we have, it can scarcely be unknown to us. It is by far the most important event which can happen to any child of man, between his cradle and his grave. And when it takes place in the inward spirit of the mind, it affects the very source of intelligence, and consciousness, and recollection. It cannot, therefore, happen unperceived. It is not meant, that we should measure our spiritual condition, by any extraordinary appearance, or, by endeavouring to ascertain the first flash of light and feeling in our souls. We are not speaking of the initial moment when we may have been first struck by the conviction of sin, but of the general and habitual result of the Grace of Christ, in contact with the nature of man. The commencement of vital religion is, sometimes, like the growth of the grain of mustard seed-very slight, and very slow-and when things change by insensible progression, it is not easy to mark the precise moment at which the one begins, and the other terminates. For example, Night and Day. And, though, we cannot define the initial instant, no man in possession of his faculties can question the result. The night has passed into the day. We are told, when certain persons belonging to the Synagogue of the Libertines, and others, were