THE SPIRIT OF CHRIST.

"IF a man have not the spirit of Christ, he is none of his." This truth, although to believers most solemn and interesting, is not, we think, sufficiently considered as a principle to be applied to the performance of our daily duties. We see many who have named the name of Christ, and who profess to be his disciples in deed and in truth, those who are ardently devoted to the interests of religion, zealous and sincere in faith; and yet can it be truly said of all these, that they possess the spirit of Christ?

What was this spirit, as we apprehend it?

Piety towards God was an ever
Every thought, every intention,

It was, first, a spirit of devotion. living, acting principle in his breast. every act was sanctified by a reference to the glory of God; to do the will of God was, in his own words, his "meat." His piety was not only constant and enduring, but deep and ardent. After the fatigue of a day devoted to benevolent effort and to teaching the perverse and unbelieving, he could retire from his little band of disciples and spend the night, not in sleep, not in the repose his wearied nature required, but in prayer to God, in communion of spirit with his Father. His piety was also characterised by the most earnest and filial faith: "I know that thou hearest me always," was the expression of his undoubting trust.

I know that we cannot,-weak, imperfect, sinful as we are,-expect to attain to such an intimate communion with the Father of our spirits, as the sinless and sanctified Saviour enjoyed; but, is the unceasing presence of God sufficiently realized by us? Do we habitually recognise his superintending power and guidance? Is our faith earnest and sincere, and in our prayers do we indeed believe that we shall receive his holy spirit if we ask for it? do we not ask coldly, negligently, doubtingly? In the hurry of business, and the cares of life, do we not often forget our responsibleness to God, forget our allegiance to Christ, and forget to cherish an earnest devotedness to duty? Do we not consider our piety as more especially a sabbath duty, as a robe to be occasionally worn, when worldly cares do not interfere? If so, whatever may be our speculative belief, whatever may be our professions, we have not yet the spirit of Christ.

The spirit of Christ was also a spirit of love,-love and benevolence towards erring, sinful man. This love embraced not only his spiritual destiny, but even his physical comfort and social happiness. Witness the unwearied labors of Jesus in healing the sick-his pity for human bereavement at the grave of Lazarus, and at the bier of the widow's son-his consideration for human happiness, by the miracle of turning water into wine at the marriage festival;—in short, all his efforts had for their object the welfare and happiness of man. Do we, even in the narrow sphere assigned us, do all that we can to promote the happiness of all within the circle of our influence? Do we consider that it is a sacred duty to add to the innocent enjoyment of those around us, by the cordial interest, and the kind word, as well as by more enduring and prominent tokens of kindness? Does the man who needlessly destroys, or even lessens, the harmony and happiness of his family by querulousness, by moroseness, or by unnecessary severity, display the spirit of Christ? Does the mother, the wife, or the daughter, who by any indulgence of temper or caprice clouds the happiness of her home with gloom or useless restraint, possess the spirit of Christ? Most surely not. Whatever be their professions, they yet lack an essential qualification of a Christian-the spirit of Jesus. If we possess his spirit, we shall be watchful to find occasions of consulting the interests and enjoyments of all around us, knowing that by constant kindness, and an uninterrupted equanimity of temper, we are doing much to recommend the religion of the Gospel to the indifferent and unbelieving, and that though silently, we are surely assisting in the advancement of the Redeemer's kingdom by every pure influence we exert over others, and that every healthy moral sentiment which we, by the blessing of God, awaken in the heart of another, is just so much accomplished towards the conversion of that being from sin to righteousness. Christians! a vast weight of responsibleness here rests upon you; the great day of retribution will alone reveal how much of the guilt and unhappiness of those near and dear to you may be traced to your want of fidelity to the great principle of Christian love and forbearance. Strive then to cherish and to exhibit the spirit that was in Christ, as much in the little occurrences and trials of every day, as in the greater events of life. Let not selfishness nor covetousness, anger nor revenge ever find a resting-place in your hearts. Cherish no passion which Christianity forbids, but strive and pray for strength to overcome all unholy desires, that you may not forfeit your claim to the title of Christian.

The spirit of Christ was a spirit of submission. "Not my will, but thine be done," was the sublime language of our Saviour; and his whole life bore testimony to his unreserved resignation to the will of God. In all the varied trials of life do we always endeavor to cherish a spirit of resignation, or do we repine at the allotments of Providence? Have we been denied the wealth or the distinctions we were anxious to obtain, and do we feel within our hearts a readiness that the will of God be done, or do we cherish a sincere thankfulness for the unmerited blessings he is ever showering upon us? Have we, with the Apostle Paul, learned to be content in whatever station we are placed? If not, our characters have much to gain before we can count ourselves true disciples of Christ. If murmuring and discontent find a welcome in our hearts, these hearts have not yet been purified by the religion of the Gospel, for the spirit of Jesus was a spirit of unqualified submission. "Learn of me, for I am meek and lowly of heart, and find rest to your souls."

The spirit of Christ was a spirit of self-sacrifice. Can we say that we too possess a spirit of self-devotion to duty? Are we willing to leave all to follow Jesus? Are we even willing to sacrifice our personal ease and convenience for the happiness of others? Are we not more devoted to fashion, to the love of money and distinction, than to the self-denying virtues enjoined by religion? Let us ponder these questions most seriously, and with reference to our accountableness to God, for we may be sure, that if we bow to selfishness as a guide in our pursuits, the religion of the Gospel has not yet had full power over us. The undue love of self must be subdued; duty and the will of God should be our only directors in the occurrences of life, if we would possess the spirit of Christ.

He died-the innocent for the guilty-the just for the unjust-that he might bring us to God. Let gratitude, then, let every pure, every just principle of our hearts, induce us to study the character of Christ, and to pray for guidance and strength to apply the same principles to the purification of our own hearts and the perfection of our own characters; for "if a man have not the spirit of Christ, he is none of his."

M. S. W.

WERE OUR FATHERS PERSECUTORS MORE THAN WE?

ONE is often annoyed by the manner in which the stale accusation of intolerance is repeated against our forefathers, by persons who can put in no reasonable claim to liberality on their own part. It is not always easy to know how to answer them. I have been pleased with the shrewdness of Mr. Bacon of New Haven, in his reply to those who deafen us with the perpetual reference to the persecution of the Quakers.

For what, he asks, were the Quakers of those days? Not the quiet, orderly, philanthropic people that we see them to be now; they were noisy, disorganizing fanatics; disturbers of the social peace, interrupters of public worship, gross violators of social decorum. The question should be,-whether, if they had been then what they are now, our fathers would have treated them as they did? and whether, if they were now what they were then, they would be allowed the liberty and respect which now attend them? It is not certain that they would; for, as Mr. Bacon shows, the persons now most nearly resembling that class of men are the great modern agitators of abolitionism, and those who abjure all government, and deny the right of the magistrate and all national and personal self-defence. These, however, never have been guilty of the disorders of the old Quakers, and are comparatively a decorous and peaceable people. And yet how much more are they tolerated? It is fair to ask, making allowance for difference in the manners of the times,-are those men treated with any greater forbearance and respect than were the Quakers two hundred years ago? is their liberty of conscience any more sacred? It is fair to ask, in the midst of our boasted liberality, and in those very places where the greatest scorn is expressed for the early intolerance of New England,-whether a greater number of persons have not suffered from calumny, assault and outrage, and even been persecuted unto death within the last ten years, than in all the years of the Puritan Colonies? "The little finger of a Lynch committee," says Mr. Bacon, "is thicker than the loins of a Puritan magistracy." I like this way of bringing the subject home. It would be well for our modern boasters to act up to their own light, before they so rudely condemn the past. Let him that is without sin, cast the first

stone.

W*.

THE BUILDING OF CHURCHES.

MUCH attention is now given in England to the architecture of churches. The plan proposed by the Bishop of London for building a large number of additional churches in London and its suburbs, and the necessity of considerably multiplying these edifices all over the kingdom, in crowded parishes and in districts hitherto neglected, have called out various plans and pamphlets from professed architects. The clergy generally have been much interested in the measure, from various reasons, among which we should place foremost an increasing zeal for the religious education of the poor and the ignorant, a jealousy of the growing numbers of the Dissenters, and an admiration of the effect of a tasteful or imposing style of ecclesiastical architec. ture. Many of the ancient edifices have begun to crumble beneath the weight of centuries, or have become uncomfortable from cold and dampness. The repair of a venerable Gothic church, if it be, ast is desirable, the restoration of its original style and completeness, is often attended with as great cost, as the construction of a new edifice. By a most iniquitous perversion of the chartered liberties of the subjects of England, the funds for the repair of churches are taxed upon the whole people, under the name of Church Rates, instead of being taken from the tithes, which were designed to cover all the claims of religion and public charity. The Dissenters complain grievously of the burden, as well they may, and they have withstood several lawsuits in carrying out their opposition, in which they have not unfrequently had the cooperation of members of the Established Church. But even if all the existing structures were rendered safe and comfortable, the number of churches now standing in England would not accommodate one fifth part of the population. We except the chapels of Dissenters from this calculation, though perhaps we might safely include them. The funds necessary for largely increasing the number are slowly collected. But there is an inherent aversion in the mind of a true Episcopalian to erecting an unsightly or mean structure for public worship. Their faith needs, or admits, or is aided by an imposing and tasteful edifice, and the Gothic style is invariably preferred. This is by far the most costly architecture, whether it be in stone or wood; but a wooden church is an