knows that this world is a scene of active preparation for a better; he feels that he is blest with an understanding which wisdom requires him to exercise; with affections which God and nature impel him to cultivate; and with active powers which both instinct and conscience urge him to employ. He is therefore diligent in the discharge of each appropriate duty, both as matter of pleasure to himself and of religious obedience to God: and in this course of happy activity, his religion is of daily and hourly assistance; because it not only gives a general spring and elasticity to his mind, but also affords much time, by expelling evil thoughts, and removes many anxieties and perturbations, by creating a decided, affectionate reliance on God's providence.

The religion, then, you see, which I speak of, is neither the austerity of the cloister, nor the enthusiasm of the desert: it is conversant in the walks of common life; cheering and invigorating us in common duties, no less than it elevates us in the appropriate exercises of devotion. Thus it enables us thoroughly to fulfil that seemingly impracticable injunction of the Apostle, "Pray without ceasing:" for what else does this mean than simply, "Possess yourself of a mind habitually devout; which is always ready to acknowledge the presence of God, and which is always in a tone fit for actual prayer or thanksgiving? It is not necessary to the perfection of a musical instrument, that we should be for ever playing upon it,... but, merely, that it should be always in tune, always ready to yield the harmonious 'concord of sweet sounds."" Thus, also, it is the perfection of religion, that our souls should be in unison with the harmonies of nature, so as, at all seasons, to join the universal chorus of thanksgiving, adoration, and praise, which is continually proceeding from the whole visible creation. This state is, unquestionably, of rare and difficult attainment; but

that it is attainable, the lives of very many excellent persons abundantly testify. And this happy possibility should surely induce us to press forward towards it. The very first step, after prayer and scriptural duty, is an effort to draw our enjoyments from the simple stock of nature; or, at least, from such works of art as most purely copy nature, such as drawing, gardening, poetry (with nice selection as to the kind), but most especially from religion itself, which is, in truth, "the soul of all the rest." When piety even begins to predominate, it is wonderful how foolish, how irksome, how insupportable, those high-wrought excitements and agitated scenes appear in which the world is seeking, but unsuccessfully seeking, for enjoyment; literally, walking in a vain shadow, and disquieting itself in vain. In truth, this is precisely what we might expect; for it exactly coincides with those feelings of nature and experience to which St. Paul so exquisitely adapts, or, rather, from which he so happily derives, his best reasonings. "When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child; but when I became a man, I put away childish things."

33. Bishop Patrick on Prayer-Meetings.

It

MY VERY DEAR FRIEND,-Let it not grieve you to think of any thing that hath passed to make me sad. For I would not else have been so joyful as now you make me, in what you relate of the child's case. is that, you know, which we earnestly beseeched of God, and which I begged of him afterwards, and will continue to supplicate him for; and therefore I know you will not think it proceeds from any want of love or compassion, if I do not join with those you

desire to-morrow. But this I assure you, that if it be your inclination to have any such meeting, I will spend as much time as I can alone in my chamber, to beseech God in his behalf, and to desire him to hear your prayers. You know how averse I am naturally to such things, and that I can breathe out my sou better alone, or with a friend, than in much company; and therefore take those whose genius and way leads them to more public performances; and take care then to spend the time most in such things as concern his condition, and not in those which are common to all. For I have known whole days spent in general confessions and petitions, and not above a sentence or two mentioned that belonged to what they came about. I thought good to send to-night, that you might not expect me to-morrow on such business. I suppose you sent to Dr. J-, and that makes me more averse; and if I might never so much, I could not join in such a thing where he is. But, however, it is very cross to my thoughts-at least to my inclinations. Not that I think you may not very well do it, if Mr. Gauden think fit; but I have not an aptitude to such meetings, nor ever had. Yet I entreat you, my dear friend, to let me know what time you intend it; for then I will sequester myself from all employments, and do the same that you do, in my own privacy. I will not think that I need beg your pardon for this denial, because you know me better than to imagine I am unkind; and you also know that I am not made for many, or, at least, cannot think myself so to be.

34. Bishop Hall on the Employment of Time.

EVERY day is a little life; and our whole life is but a day repeated; whence it is that old Jacob numbers his life by days; and Moses desires to be taught this point of holy arithmetic, to number not his years, but his days. Those, therefore, that dare lose a day are dangerously prodigal; those that dare mispend it, desperate. We can best teach others by ourselves: let me tell your lordship how I would pass my days, whether common or sacred; that you (or whosoever others overhearing me) may either approve my

thriftiness, or correct my errors. To whom is the account of my hours either more due, or more known? All days are his who gave time a beginning and continuance; yet some he hath made ours, not to command, but to use. In none may we forget him; in some we must forget all besides him. First, therefore, I desire to awake at those hours, not when I will, but when I must; pleasure is not a fit rule for rest, but health; neither do I consult so much with the sun, as mine own necessity, whether of body, or in that of the mind. If this vassal could well serve me waking, it should never sleep; but now it must be pleased, that it may be serviceable. Now, when sleep is rather driven away than leaves me, I would ever awake with God; my first thoughts are for him, who hath made the night for rest, and the day for travail; and as he gives, so blesses both. If my heart be early seasoned with his presence, it will savour of him all day after. While my body is dressing, not with an effeminate curiosity, nor yet with rude neglect, my mind addresses itself to her ensuing task, bethinking what is to be done, and in what order; and marshalling (as it may) my hours with my work. That done, after some while meditation, I walk up to my masters and companions, my books, and sitting down amongst them, with the best contentment, I dare not reach forth my hand to salute any of them, till I have first looked up to heaven, and craved favour of him to whom all my studies are duly referred; without whom I can neither profit nor labour. After this, out of no over-great variety, I call forth those which may best fit my occasions, wherein I am not scrupulous of age. Sometimes I put myself to school to one of those ancients whom the Church hath honoured with the name of fathers, whose volumes I confess not to open without a sacred reverence of their holiness and gravity; sometimes to those later doctors, which want nothing but