ON THE NEW YEAR.

GOD has been graciously pleased to spare our lives to the commencement of another year. This should fill our minds with devout thankfulness to our heavenly Father, from whom we receive all our mercies.

From the awful pestilence, the Asiatic cholera, which has been so prevalent in this kingdom, and throughout the world, and from every other dangerous and fatal disease, we have been hitherto most kindly preserved, whilst multitudes around us have been carried to the silent tomb, who, at the beginning of the last year, were as strong and healthy as ourselves, and, no doubt, promised themselves an equally extended existence in this lower world. What do these lessons of mortality teach us, but to live in an habitual state of preparation for eternity? for our term of life, for aught we know, may be nearly ended, and we may be called to our final account before the conclusion of the present year, yea, before the rising of to-morrow's sun.

Let us consider this period as peculiarly favourable to reflection.

From the first moment of our being, our lives have exhibited one continued series of God's superintending care. Through the instrumentality of our parents, he watched and protected us in the tender years of infancy; and, under the influence of his sovereign power, they acted the friendly and anxious part of exhorting and warning, rebuking and encouraging us at a time of life, when, from want of strength and discretion, we were unable to support our bodies, and to direct our conduct.

In all the stages of our lives, we should ever remember with filial gratitude the kindness of our first and best earthly friends, and the mercies vouchsafed to us by our heavenly Father, the controller of human events, the sustainer of our lives, and the centre of all our hopes of happiness and joy. The pleasures of childhood and youth pass away without being properly appreciated, and we are protected from innumerable dangers without being aware of the hand that directs our destinies. The mind is then incompetent to reflect upon the works and ways of Providence. But, if we be spared to witness the full development of our mental powers, we shall be enabled to look around us with an observant eye, and within us with a heart alive to the corruptions of human nature. We shall often cherish, with fond attachment, the recollection of by-gone days-the most innocent period of our lives-the morning of our earthly careers; for, the more a man

gives himself to reflection in his maturer years, the more sensible he is that, in this transitory state of existence, he can find no resting-place for his soul, that the greatest pleasures are mingled with sorrow, and that the brightest hopes often meet with bitter disappointment.

So illusory are all earthly hopes and wishes, that it is imprudent, and even dangerous, to rely too much upon the realiza. tion of them. Youth wish to be men, that they may command their time, and be happy. Men, on the other hand, review their boyish days as the happiest periods of their lives. Some condition different from the one allotted us is, in every stage of life, eagerly desired. In early life, however, although we may have our little trials and troubles, and pant after what we consider to be the privileges of full-grown men, yet, as we are then comparatively unacquainted with the tumultuous scenes of life, our condition may be pronounced free from corroding cares-a condition which we should still more fully enjoy, could we but form just conceptions of the troubles and disappointments that meet and baffle the sons and daughters of Adam in their progress through life.

As perfect happiness is unattainable on earth, let us seek, from this moment, if we have never done so before, to place our affections on things divine, that it may be our privilege and happiness to date, from the commencement of the present year, our new birth, our birth unto righteousness; for surely, if we possess a heavenly frame of mind, we may bid defiance to the attacks of every enemy to our peace, and stand unmoved amid the opposing elements of the present world. The vicissitudes of life will not affect our minds, and even death, come when it may, will be welcomed as a harbinger of peace.

The daily proofs we have of the frail tenor of our connexion with things on earth, and the undoubted assurance given us that "in the midst of life we are in death," are calculated to supply us with powerful motives to implore the Divine protection, without which the most disastrous consequences must inevitably ensue ; for, liable as we are to be cut off by a thousand unforeseen accidents, and short as the most protracted state of existence unquestionably is, nothing but the most callous hardihood can make us neglect or postpone the period of our repentance. The new birth should, therefore, be eagerly sought after through the merits of the Redeemer.

The natural birth introduces us into this

world weak and helpless, and our childhood is passed in a happy ignorance of the wiles of the world; but our spiritual birth will strengthen our minds, and inure them to encounter and surmount every danger and temptation. Our matured conceptions of the world are stronger and more correct than those which are formed in early life, and the rays of divine light, which the gospel throws over our minds, when we are truly converted to God, will guard us against the danger of painting the things of time and sense in gaudy colours, or relying upon their power to make us happy. This vain trifling world has no attractions to the renewed mind, further than that it is the probationary state in which that happiness may be secured, which will last through the countless ages of eternity.

In our natural childhood, we are under parental authority, and our steps are guided by their counsel and advice. In our spiritual childhood, our regenerate state, our heavenly Father will send the Comforter, his Holy Spirit, to admonish and assist us, to unfold to us the mysteries of the gospel, and to direct our feet in the right way, the narrow path to glory. We are shortsighted and frail creatures, and ever stand in need of divine aid. It is true, we know the past, and the present, and cannot reflect upon the scenes that have occurred, or are occurring around us, without having our minds filled with wonder, love, and praise wonder, at the long-suffering and tender mercies of the Lord towards us, love for his statutes and ordinances, and praise and thanksgiving for the unspeakable privileges which we enjoy as Christians.

The events of the last year, which are now so familiar to our minds, were a year ago wrapt up in impenetrable obscurity. Many, very many, vainly hoped, at that time, to witness the close of the year, and to review, at its conclusion, the prominent events that have taken place during its progress, who now are numbered among the inhabitants of eternity. With regard to the past year, it is true, we have been spared to see its close; but, with respect to the present, who among us can say that we shall be favoured with the repetition of the same privilege? "Boast not thyself of tomorrow," says Solomon, "for thou knowest not what a day may bring forth."

The events of futurity are wisely hidden from our eyes. A foreknowledge of what might happen to us would fill us with pre sumption, or cover us with dismay. Our complete ignorance of what may befall us, and the danger there always is of being called hence in an unprepared state, if the

period of repentance be deferred, have surely a tendency to awaken our minds to the performance of our duties, and to make us live in an habitual state of preparation for the world to come. Man's ignorance of his future destiny leaves room for the exercise of faith, hope, and charity.

He hopes that he has an interest in Christ through faith in his meritorious death and sufferings; and his charitable opinion of the spiritual-mindedness of others springs from the same source. Let us, therefore, hope thus unto the end, and we shall be saved. Let us seek to possess that living faith which works by love, and purifies the heart, that faith which is proved to be genuine by works of charity and labours of love, which is the substance of things hoped for, and the evidence of things not seen, and which gives to the Christian professor victory over the world, and power to compose his mind amid the raging of its tumultuous billows.

This is the only way to pass safely through the present year, or rather to the end of our earthly pilgrimage, whether it may occur during this annual revolution, or at some subsequent period. With God all things are known: he takes in the whole span of our existence at one single glance. We may, therefore, safely confide ourselves to his beneficent protection. Whatever may befall us in the present life-whether we may be favoured by fortune, or dejected by affliction, buoyed up by prosperity, or cast down by adversity-let us put our confidence in Him, and we shall be safe. Our tempers will be changed. We shall not be so anxious about the prolongation of our lives, as about the manner in which they are spent. We shall consider the commencement of the present year as an important era in our existence, whereby another opportunity is afforded us to humble ourselves before God, and to extol his great and wondrous name—a name which is above every name-to know that "in him we live, and move, and have our being," and to learn to obey his awful fiat, and submit to the judgment he may please to pronounce upon us. Let us, then, while it is called to-day, betake ourselves to serious self-examination. Let us, without further delay, buckle on the whole armour of faith; for the uncertainty of life must render delay eminently perilous. If such be our conduct, if we henceforth lead a godly and a pious life, we may expect to reap an eternal reward in the world of spirits, where faith will be lost in sight, and hope in vision.

Edenhall.

THOS. IRELAND.

ON INDECISION IN RELIGION.
"Remember Lot's wife."-Luke xvii. 32.

THERE is a fatal principle in man, over which the world at all times possesses a weening influence, a principle which of itself proves the fallen state of humanity. Under the influence of a fascination like that attributed to some venomous reptiles, he is tempted to what he knows is evil, and yields himself an infatuated victim, to what sad experience has often told him occasions nought but sorrow and distress. How often, then, needs he to be directed, not only to the frightful consequences of attachment to sin, which the world around us displays, but that the Divine finger may point mutely, yet impressively from its very silence, to characters on record, which may leave some traces on the mind, of the dreadful nature and fatality of sin.

When we read of the iniquity of Sodom and Gomorrah, of God's determination to destroy Sodom, of Abraham's intercession, of the departure of Lot from the cursed cities, and of their utter destruction, how awful are the consequences of disobedience. And how peculiarly touching, like a flash of lightning thrown across a scene of terror and woe, does the infatuated disobedience of Lot's wife appear! Yet, though this is confessedly a mournful history, how strikingly it illustrates the disposition of man, even amidst all the blessings of Christianity! The word of God and the tongue of eloquence unfold to him the world lying in wickedness, and under the final curse of Jehovah. He feels that he must leave the scenes of his guilty pleasures, in order to avoid the vengeance to which it is doomed. While he lingers, some friend with whom he is connected by the bonds of love or friendship, draws him towards the sacred hills; but, after the first excitations of religion have subsided, the remembrance of the guilty pleasures of sin comes over his soul. Its unhallowed fascinations again tempt him, and, though he knows the consequences of his infatuation, he turns from the contemplation of God. Though he may not much indulge in his former transgressions, still the love of them remains within, and severs him from his Maker. How dreadful then is his situation-deprived of the lulling pleasures of sin, yet still desiring them! Such a person is indeed an awful monument of Divine vengeance, cut off from the enjoyment of iniquity, yet suffering its punishment; separated from the God he professes to serve, and under

his curse.

It is impossible for any one whose mind

has once been duly impressed with the awful realities of an unseen world, and has experienced some of the pleasures of religion, ever to be entirely at ease in the enjoyments of sin. The remembrance of the peaceful, the happy moments he has spent in spiritual duties, will damp the gayest smile, and throw a melancholy shade over the thoughtless expression of joy. The consciousness of present misery and the anticipation of the future, will cloud every sinful indulgence. He cannot but feel how much greater is his own condemnation, having once experienced the enlightening influence of the Spirit of God. He knows that he is not ignorant of the holy and pure requisitions of the Divine law. He has had exquisite perceptions of the goodness and love of God, and of those mercies which he abuses. And, oh how painfully the recollection of these things comes across his mind!

Just as he who is harassed with the toils and vexations of this world, sighs for the peaceful retreat, and the delightful shades, of that retirement he has left; or, as he who, in a busy moment, unexpectedly hears some strain from a touching air, that recalls melancholy recollections of joys for ever gone-such are the feelings of him who, having once tasted spiritual joys, returns again to his former state. And what must be his sensations, should these awful words dwell on his mind? "If we sin wilfully after that we have received the knowledge of the truth, there remaineth no more sacrifice for sins, but a certain fearful looking for of judgment and fiery indignation, which shall devour the adversaries. He that de. spised Moses' law died without mercy, under two or three witnesses; of how much sorer punishment, suppose ye, shall he be thought worthy, who hath trodden under foot the Son of God, and hath counted the blood of the covenant, wherewith he was sanctified, an unholy thing, and hath done despite unto the Spirit of grace?" For we know him that hath said, Vengeance belongeth unto me; I will recompense, saith the Lord. And, again, The Lord shall judge his people. It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God.

Those who have never felt or thought seriously, may be comparatively happy; that is, if they are placed in prosperous circumstances, and drink deep of the pleasures and gaiety of the world. Nay, the student or philosopher, who is a stranger to true religion, may be comparatively happy in this present world. He may seldom be molested with harassing thoughts of futurity, and his mind may be almost entirely lulled or

absorbed in the passing circumstances of life. But this is impossible with him who has once seen the veil of futurity removed, and the awful terrors of a future state. Over all his guilty pursuits, a shadowy monster, like the horrible harpy of the Æneid, will flit, and pollute his unlawful enjoyments. Agonizing thoughts of what he has once seen will pour upon his mind a cloud that nothing can dissipate: a deadly curse, yet more deadly still, if it were dissipated. He sees that holiness and happiness are inseparable in their very nature, yet feels that his sins shut him out from that peace of mind which is so desirable.

Holiness is the pure emanation from God, which ennobles man, and imparts celestial bliss. In the words of an elegant writer, "Holiness and happiness are one: sin has separated the sister seraphs in this world; and while they roam around our veil of darkness, though by a secret sympathy continually tending to each other, some cloud still interposes to prevent their perfect union. But in heaven they shall be for ever united, one in nature, and one in beauty." The truth of this must appear to every one that attentively considers the nature of the Supreme Being, whose peculiar attribute is holiness. He has so formed the world and so regulates its affairs, that its harmony and beauty, nay, the very happiness of his creatures, depends upon the very same principle. So wise and benevolent in all his laws and purposes is the Creator, that it is obvious that these, in their own nature, tend to the happiness of man. If his happiness depends on such a source, and it is plain that it does, how infatuated must he be to seek for permanent joy and peace in the constant violation of them! Infatuated as he must seem, yet it is not the less true indeed, none could be found that are not at times in some degree under the influence of this fatal delusion; a desire to seek for pleasure and happiness from other sources than those we are directed to by the scriptures. And though sad experience proves that sorrow is the constant attendant of sin, we do not seem to believe it, but still pursue the ignis fatuus even to the precipice of destruction.

Could it be believed that the pleasure is not that lovely syren it seems to be, could we divest her of her boasted beauty by throwing aside that veil which droops over her too gracefully, we should start back with horror. But have we never seen the deceitful guise stripped off? Yes, too often, alas! have we witnessed the tears, the sorrow, the agony, that have accompanied her steps. Though she promises happiness

to man, too often she deludes him with misery. Thus the holy choir of purified spirits above sings, as it reviews the follies and pursuits of time.

"Pleasure was full of all disease; her bones
Were rotten; Consumption lick'd her blood, and
drank

Her marrow up; her breath smelt mortally;
And in her bowels plague and fever lurked;
And in her very heart, and reins, and life,
Corruption's worm gnawed greedily unseen."
Pollock.

How carefully, then, should we stifle those feelings that continually arise, those longing desires after the gratifications of life, which are dearly bought, and, when acquired, prove destructive to that peace of mind so necessary to the Christian ! An unceasing pursuit after pleasure is incom. patible with devotedness to God. The one leads from the source of happiness, the other leads to it. By the one, spiritual-mindedness, which is life and peace, is destroyed; by the other, it is cultivated. The even path of duty is that which is prescribed to man in his probatory state, and there alone must he expect the blessing of God. But the irregular wanderings of pleasure lead more and more to misery and ruin. The character is rendered weak and indecisive, yielding to temptation; so that, at last, it falls an easy prey to the "adversary that goeth about seeking whom he may devour." This, then, must be carefully guarded against; a habit of self-denial must be instilled into the mind. So, alone, can the wanderer hope to return to God, or to preserve his soul from destruction.

While indecision operates on the mind, the consequences will be distressing; resolute self-denial approves itself, eventually, as the least painful. The continual wavering of opinion, the struggle that is constantly carried on between duty and inclination, cannot but make indecision miserable. And this is what every one is exposed to, who hesitates to obey the God he professes to follow.

"No man can serve two masters." He may profess to serve both, but he can only love one. The principle that dwelleth within must either be devotional or worldly. If it be devotional, his feelings will, of their own accord, lead him to live unto his God, and to dedicate the entire faculties of the soul to his service. But if it be otherwise, though he may outwardly assume the forms of godliness, not, perhaps, from hypocritical motives, but from convictions of duty-it is in vain: he will neither be happy in this life, nor in the world to come.

It is "the power," the true spirit of Christianity, that should be always aimed