off the stage as useless lumber. Oh, how different from that blessed union of hearts, and minds, and tastes, which binds together the whole family of God; whether "babes, or young men, or fathers." Their innocent and harmless pleasures are suitable to regenerate man, at every stage of life. In childhood, in manhood, or "in a good old age," the pure in heart can see God amidst the scenes of nature, and walk together in the same ways of pleasantness and paths of peace. All, without distinction, can join in calling the Sabbath a delight, and feel equal gladness, when it is said unto them, "We will go into the house of the Lord." Young men and maidens, old men and children, "all eat the same spiritual meat, and all drink the same spiritual drink." There may be varieties; but there is no essential difference. They all walk in the same light; and though it be to one the morning, and to another the meridian, or the evening of his days, it is the same sun of righteousness which shines upon them all.

Such is the contrast which holds throughout, between the children of this world, and the children of light. Amongst the former, there is no real bond of union. They are out of the sphere of God's attraction: nor, consequently, is there any attraction of cohesion, which links them to each

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other. They belong to a system, if such it can be called, which is hastening to decay: for "a kingdom divided against itself cannot stand, but hath an end." On the other hand, the children of the light are all drawn by God; and that attraction binds them in mutual fellowship and love. In answer to their Saviour's prayer, they "all are one;" one, after the image of God's unity, and consequently, of his eternity; for that which is indissolubly united, will last for ever. They are all citizens of that Jerusalem above, which, like her earthly counterpart, " is built as a city at unity in itself:" that unity of which we learn both the cause and the effect, in those other expressions of the Psalmist, "God is in the midst of her; she shall not be moved."

V. THE CHURCH OF ROME AND THE THEATRE.

It has often been a matter of surprise, that the Church of Rome, liberal as it is in its allowance of other amusements, should so pointedly oppose the theatre; and should even deny the rites of burial to all performers on the stage. It appears to me, however, not difficult to assign the reason. It is an old proverb, that “two of a trade never

agree." There is, in fact, a close resemblance between Romanism and the stage. The Church of Rome is dramatic in all its features. It seems to be its office, and its very essence, to act Christianity, and to hold out in exterior exhibition, that which, in its true life, no eye but God's can see. No wonder the Church of Rome is fond of sacraments, when the definition of one so admirably suits herself-she is "an outward and visible sign of an inward and spiritual church." It is, in a word, as I said before, her part and province to act Christianity. Thus, with her, repentance is changed to penance; because the latter is to act the former. Thus, to glory in the cross of Christ is, with her, to kiss, and kneel to, and carry in procession, a material crucifix. Thus our Lord's humility, in washing his disciples' feet, is, with her, got up as a grand performance, in which the Pope annually acts the part of Christ. In full keeping with all this, the celebration of the mass is an apparatus calculated altogether to engage the senses. Artificial lights, odoriferous incense, enchanting music, costly decorations, and all the secret charms of mystery; such are the stimulants with which the worship of the mass supplies the place of rational and spiritual devotion. But still all these fall short of the brilliancy and attrac

tions of the theatre. The glare of the theatre outshines the gaudiness of the church, and brings a whole apparatus to bear upon the senses, which prudence, if no better principle, forbids the latter to employ. Hence the jealousy of the Church of Rome. The theatre is her rival, and as such she fears her. She dreads her, and denounces her as an enemy who meets her on her own ground, and who encroaches on her own immediate province, namely, that of exciting the passions, and acting on the senses of mankind.

VI. ON THE DISPOSITION TO RENDER OTHERS
LIKE OURSELVES.

That there is in the Divine Being, a disposition to extend and propagate his own resemblance, we learn from the history of our first creation. "Let us make man," says the triune God," in our image, after our likeness." Part of this resemblance, then, was the desire in man to carry on the same work, and to spread around him reflections and images of himself. This instinctive. wish, perceived or unperceived, exists in every human bosom. There is a constant endeavour, upon the part of each individual, to enlarge the

field of his own sympathies, by moulding others into a conformity with his peculiar tastes, habits, and opinions. What, it may be asked, can make the slave of sin so anxious to render others as wretched as himself? What advantage can the drunkard reap, from degrading those around him below the level of the beast? Or what benefit can the infidel derive, from despoiling the afflicted of their consolation, and the dying of their hope? No answer can be given, but that it is deeply seated in man's nature, to render others whatever he may be himself. It is this which constitutes every good man, more or less, a public benefit. The desire to propagate self, is, in his case, no longer a blind instinct, but identified with a sense of duty to both God and man. But still, the principle is in operation: so much so, that I believe it is strictly impossible for us sincerely to desire for others, what we have not experienced ourselves. How constraining a motive is this, amongst others, to press onward to perfection! In proportion as we attain to this, it will be our

nature to do good.

Virtue will go out of us, and when we are least conscious of it, we shall scatter blessings around us. To render others like ourselves, will be to make them holy and happy. And the higher we elevate the level within us, the more shall we circulate those streams, which