perimental religion, has not said, in effect, both when remembering past attainments, and when anticipating future progress and enjoyment,

"O that I might for ever sit,

Like Mary, at the Master's feet?"

Thus the eye of a Christian, of either sex, and of whatever sphere in life or godliness, reposes upon Mary of Bethany, whenever it searches for an example of child-like docility, or of angel-like meekness, in learning of Christ. The spirit of a Christian takes her position at the feet of Christ, and tries to hang upon his lips with her zeal and zest, whenever it is hungering and thirsting after righteousness. The soul feels instinctively that this is the only way to "be filled" or refreshed by his presence. Accordingly, we have never found much enjoyment or profit, except when we have really sat at "the feet" of Christ, hearing his word for ourselves. Neither in the sanctuary, nor in the closet, have we become holier or happier, when we did not try to place ourselves in the position and spirit of Mary.

It will be seen at once, from this application of the example of Mary, that I regard both her place at the feet of Jesus, and her conduct in anointing his feet with "spikenard," as only illustrations of her habitual spirit and general character. Nothing is farther from my intention, because nothing could be more foreign to her real character, than to represent her as merely a meek, contemplative, and retiring Christian. She was, indeed, all this, but she was much more: she was as prompt as Martha in going out of the house to meet Jesus when he sent for her, and in serving him in the house when service was really wanted. It was not wanted when Martha said so. If she had stood in real need of assistance from Mary, the Saviour would not have continued, nor even begun to preach, in the house of Lazarus then : much less would he have commended Mary for sitting still, if she had been neglecting domestic duties. The character of Mary should, therefore, be judged, not by this instance of contrast with Martha's, but by the conduct

of Jesus. Now, HE certainly would not have thrown his immortal shield so promptly and fully over it, if sloth or selfishness, the love of ease, or the dislike of household duties. had been part of her character. From all we know of the Saviour, we may be quite sure that he would have reproved her himself, had she been either idle or negligent.

They are but very superficial observers, who seize upon the contrast of the moment between these sisters, to make out, that Mary was chiefly an amiable Nun-like being, who was fonder of contemplative piety than of practical duty. This is a very common opinion; but it is utterly at variance with fact, however appearances may seem to justify it. Even appearances are against it; for nothing is so prominent upon the surface of the case, as the Saviour's approbation of Mary's character. They are, therefore, at issue with both His judgment and testimony, who insinuate the charge or suspicion of undomestic habits against this holy woman. There is nothing to warrant

such an imputation. She sat at the feet of Jesus upon this occasion, because Jesus thought proper to open his lips as a minister, when he visited her house as a guest. Besides, His visits to Bethany were the real sabbaths of the family. Only then, had they the opportunity of hearing the glorious Gospel in all the fulness of its blessing and as the opportunity did not occur often, it could not be too fully improved whilst it lasted. Thus, there is no more reason to think Mary inactive or undomestic, because she sat whilst Martha served with unnecessary bustle, than to suspect that those women, who sanctify the Sabbath most in the house of God, are least attentive to the affairs of their own houses. There is, perhaps, no better test of good domestic management all the week at home, than regularity and punctuality of attendance on public worship on the Sabbath. Those who are soonest and oftenest at the feet of Jesus on his own day, are certainly not idle or irregular on other days. It is because they are active, and act on system

through the week, that they can make so much of their Sabbaths.

I thus bring out the real character of Mary, that the beauty of holiness may not be supposed to consist in either mere morals or musing. There may be much morality, where there is no holiness; and there may be much holiness, where there are no literary tastes or habits. Neither fondness for public hearing, nor the

"Love of lonely musing,"

is any real proof, by itself, of a new heart, or of a right spirit, before God. Great readers (as they are called) are not often the deepest nor the most serious thinkers, even when their reading is of the best kind; and the contemplative recluse, who lives only to think, or who reckons every thing but mental pleasure insipid, is actually indulging "the lusts of the mind," instead of growing in grace or holiness. It may sound well, to say of a sweet enthusiast, whose element is solitude, and whose luxury is emotion, "that she is a being who