SELFISHNESS is the great sin of fallen man: a sin which pervades all classes; and which rankles in every breast. By nature, no man, however mild his character, or generous his disposition, is exempt from its influence. "All seek their own." There is in every man a strong disposition to pursue that which makes for his own immediate interests, in preference to that which is due to God and to his fellow-creatures. This requires no proof; since all are conscious of it. To this selfishness the worldly man gives way; and against it the servant of God is obliged to maintain an hourly conflict; for it still follows him like his own shadow; nor does it fear the weight of any weapon, except "the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God."

St. Paul, when he wrote to the Philippians, had been for some time a prisoner at Rome. He was still expecting his trial, and uncertain, as it seems from some passages in this epistle, whether he should live or die. Thus circumstanced, he anxiously desired to communicate with his much-loved converts at Philippi. But whom should he depute on a mission so full of danger? Epaphroditus, his "brother and companion in labor, and fellowsoldier," had been sick, nigh unto death; yet, as soon as it was possible, he was sent to the Philippians. Timothy, Paul's own son, the firstborn of his affections, was shortly to follow. Paul, in his prison, sick and preparing for his trial, parted with both of them, rather than that the Philippians should continue without a spiritual guide and helper. It was a noble sacrifice to make, to part with his two dearest friends at such a time; and St. Paul was not the man to affect indifference. He felt their loss, while he cheerfully submitted to it for the sake of others; for he says, "I have no man like-minded, who will naturally care for your state; for all seek their own, not the things which are Jesus Christ's" i. e., they are selfish in a high degree.

This sin of selfishness is odious: it is hateful even in the eyes of men. It is, therefore, for the most part, disguised; it wears some pretext: it strives to hide itself beneath some plausible excuse. It does this especially when it lurks beneath the cloak of religious profession. It is frequently concealed beneath the mask of lawful industry. It seems more than probable, that such was the case at Rome with those professing Christians to whom St. Paul refers. For it is not to be supposed that he is speaking of the heathen, from whom indeed no such sacrifice as he contemplated could have been expected. It is of the professing Christians at Rome that he speaks, when he says, "All seek their own." And how, then, we may ask, did they incur this heavy censure? Did they contemptuously deride his appeals to their consciences upon this subject? Did they venture to argue with the apostle that this mission to the Philippians was uncalled for,—a work in which it was not a christian duty to engage? This is unlikely. It is far more probable they made answer, that the work was important, but they were otherwise engaged. They all sought their own life came to them with its endless cares and charms, its feverish bustle, and its painful change, just as it comes to us; and they did not feel that interest in the progress of the gospel and the welfare of their brethren at Philippi, which would lead them to forsake their own usual pursuits in order to minister to their necessities.

Precisely thus is selfishness most frequently displayed. We all seek our own. Each man lives in his own little world; and in that world he "liveth to himself." If his engagements are lawful, if his pursuits are honest, and above all, if the welfare of a family is depending on his exertions, he asks no more to satisfy the reproaches of his conscience when it is occasionally disturbed by the misery around him. His time is fully occupied his resources are all engaged; and he persuades himself that it will never be demanded of him at the great day of account, why he did not visit the fatherless children and widows in their affliction. If others perish for lack of knowledge, he has no time to instruct them; and imagines that he is, therefore, guiltless of their blood.

Another disguise which selfishness assumes is that of a calm, dispassionate judgment. We see this constantly. How many excuse themselves from assisting in plans for the salvation of the heathen, because, as they maintain, the method in which the end is to be gained is not the best that might be devised, nor the machinery the most unexceptionable! Is it the relief of distress? There is an argument on the propriety of encouraging improvidence, instead of a generous contribution. And so, in numberless instances, on which it is needless to enlarge.

And no doubt there may be truth and propriety sometimes in these objections. It is no part of christian benevolence to lend itself to every new project, however well-intentioned it may be,

without examination. We are not bound to give indiscriminate aid to all who think themselves entitled to it. Such charities are never of much value: often mischievous. They rather betray the want of Christian zeal, than the excess of it. Never let an indolent good nature be mistaken for that love which the Spirit of God diffuses in the soul. This is a wise, discriminating, rightjudging principle: the other is an infirmity; nay, it is a sin. It is the squandering of our talent, not the right employment of it.

If we are really in earnest to know our duty in such cases, we shall propose to ourselves such plain questions as these. "I am requested to give my aid to this institution. It is nothing to the purpose that I perceive it has faults; for what human institution is without them? But are they vital faults? Do they go through and vitiate the principles of the institution as well as the conduct of it? And even if they do, are they faults which are incapable of being remedied? For if not, they do not quite justify my refusal. Then again: Is the aim a noble one? Does it tend to the glory of God, and to the welfare of man? If so, I am surely bound (if it lies in my power at all) either to aid this institution, or to devise something better. For the end—that is, the glory of God-must not be lost sight of, because I differ from my brethren as to the best method of promoting it. Or, lastly, if I am satisfied that the plans proposed to me are not worthy of my support, am I not bound to turn into some other channel of christian philanthropy what I, in my conscience, feel constrained to withhold from this?"

Selfishness is frequently disguised beneath the garb of humility, and a low estimation of our own abilities. Thus it is that so many pacify their consciences, whilst living in open disobedience to the Lord's command, to cause their light to shine before men. They plead inability: they cannot instruct the ignorant; they cannot counsel the afflicted; they cannot help forward the great cause of God by their exertions. There are cases in which all this may be so; there are many more in which it is the mere apology of indifference, the subterfuge of sloth,doubly offensive to Him who searcheth the heart, from the deceit with which it is so deeply stained.

Once more: Selfishness disguises itself even from ourselvesthat worst of all disguises-by a partial dedication of our talent to the service of God. If we give our money, we persuade ourselves we have done all that is required. If, in support of the cause of Christ, or the wants of our fellow-men, we contribute from our purse, conscience is instantly at rest. Alas! how false an estimate. The self-dedication of a Christian includes, it is true, the dedication of his property; but it is not, it cannot be, satisfied with this. Here, then, we detect one of the most frequent forms of selfishness. We give our money. True: but that is not all that God demands. Perhaps it is, in our cases, and in such pro

portions as we give it, the slightest, cheapest offering we can lay upon God's altar. He asks some portion of our time; some interest in our prayers; some measure of our influence for the cause in which his honour is concerned; and the case does not permit, so to speak, of a composition with the great Creditor. In short, if we would stand "perfect and complete in all the will of God," we must daily and hourly propose the question to ourselves, What more can I do to express my gratitude to that Saviour who has done so much for me?

PRACTICAL REFLECTIONS ON THE NEW TESTAMENT.

Practical Reflections on Select Passages of the New Testament. By JOHN BIRD SUMNER, D.D., Archbishop of Canterbury. Chiefly compiled from Expository Lectures on the Gospels and Epistles, by the same Author. London: Hatchard and Co. 1859. THE expository lectures of the Archbishop of Canterbury, upon the Gospels and Epistles, are too well known, and too highly valued, to require any further description at our hands. The volume now before us professes to be, in a great measure, a republication of certain portions of that larger work; "from which," says the most reverend author, "I have selected some of the passages in the New Testament which place in a clear and strong light the nature and character of the gospel, and exemplify its effect upon the hearts of those by whom it is received."

The portions selected may be said to form a body of simple, practical divinity. Had the author been unknown, we have not so mean an opinion of the penetration of the church of Christ in the present day, as to believe that his work would have soon passed into neglect, or failed indeed of being highly appreciated. There is a deep, calm wisdom in its pages, which imparts to the reader the feeling of security and confidence; the consciousness that he follows a well-experienced guide, one who, under the Great Architect, is himself "a wise master-builder." Without the air of controversy, most of the ecclesiastical and religious questions of the day are noticed, and, as it seems to us, satisfactorily dismissed. A few words of scripture appositely introduced, an historical fact placed in some just and striking light, or an inference fairly drawn out and expressed in few words, are made to dispose of many a controversy without anything of apparent argument; for the argument lies beneath the surface, the results only appear before the reader's eye. And we are constantly reminded of the well-known observation of one of his Grace's eminent predecessors: "How much learning was required to make these things plain!"

The volume opens with an exposition upon "the Divine nature of Christ," which is followed by one on his "humanity"-doctrines which lie at the foundation of our faith; and it closes with reflections upon " the spiritual resurrection," and "the heavenly abode of righteousness." Intermediate between these, the extreme points, there lies a large field, across which personal experience and doctrinal wisdom have passed, scattering the seeds of Divine truth. Nor is it a circumstance of little moment that, in times like these, the judgment of the primate of the church of England upon so many points vehemently disputed, should be placed before the world. On this account alone, we should hail the appearance of this volume with the highest satisfaction; and when we add those considerations of spiritual profit and instruction to which we have referred, we cannot but express our gratitude for so acceptable a boon.

The Archbishop traces the work of grace in the soul from its first origin in the "great love wherewith" Jesus "loved us, even when we were dead in sin.". On the text, In Him was life, and the life was the light of men, (John i. 4) he says:

"For observe the certain inference which we must draw from what the evangelist reveals concerning the Christ, the Son of God. We learn from it the miserable and ruined state of man: so ruined and miserable, that the same power must redeem life, which had given life: the same divine person must create anew, who had at first created. He 'without whom nothing was made that was made,' now 'comes to seek and to save that which was lost.' Low, surely, was the condition, which must needs be thus relieved and raised. Utter, surely, must be the ruin which could only be thus recovered. If he who comes to save, is he who was in the beginning with God, and was God, no other argument is needed to prove the depth of ruin and of misery. We see it in the majesty of the Deliverer. In the greatness of the Saviour we read the greatness of man's necessity. In the vastness of the sacrifice, we learn to calculate the weight of our debt, the burden of man's sin. And we learn to measure from it, too, the extent of our obligation. Which will be the greater, the heinousness of guilt or the extremity of loss, to those who put this mercy from them, 'count themselves unworthy of eternal life,' and 'neglect so great salvation?'

Then "the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the world," is revealed to the weary soul. The sinner by faith "beholds him," and lo! he has peace with God; a peace which is the seal of pardon obtained by the blood of Him who, "through the Eternal Spirit, offered himself without spot to God."

"Pardon so obtained warns whilst it absolves. Sin is a heinous thing, if without shedding of blood there is no remission of sin. Sin is shown to be the ruin of the soul, if only the blood of the Son of God could save the soul from the condemnation of sin. So that the conscience, purged from the guilt of past dead works, is also delivered from the love or practice of sin: cleansed from all unrighteousness, to serve