his conduct. He venerates the Almighty as his Creator, he feels grateful to him as his Preserver, he fears him as his Parent, he loves him as his Redeemer.

Thus various sentiments arise in his mind with regard to God, which were not there by nature; nor are his views in reference to himself less conspicuously changed. He is no longer, in his own conception, that lofty being who looked to himself with pride and admiration, trusting to his own efforts, and boasting of his own inherent claims. He confesses himself to be a corrupt being, who, if saved at all, must be saved by free mercy; and while, perhaps, the world around is wondering at the change in his character, and thinking that he now imagines himself the best and most holy of men, he is secretly lamenting his defects, and pouring out his soul at the throne of mercy for acceptance and forgiveness solely through the merits of his adorable Redeemer.

Having traced the power of religion thus far, it would be easy to carry the delineation much farther. But for the purpose now intended it is not necessary to describe the advanced Christian: it is enough if it have been shown that even the first steps in religion presuppose far more than is usually included in the idea of modern Christianity. True religion implies a complete revolution of character, and a dereliction of many of the most natural feelings and opinions of an unsubdued mind. Its effects have been already faintly sketched as they appear in the general tenor of a Christian's life, but they will be most conspicuous and interesting in circumstances of peculiar difficulty and distress. In trouble, there will be a calm, a resignation, an acquiescence, which no natural considerations could possibly have produced. In death, there will be a well-grounded trust in God, very different, on the one hand, from the despair of him who is "driven away in his wickedness ;" and, on the other, from the false confidence of him who "hath no bands in his

death." Above all, the power of religion will be evident in preparing its possessor for that world which, as has been already observed, a wicked man not only cannot attain, but could not even enjoy; that world of which purity is at once the characteristic, the privilege, and the delight.

SOURCES OF ERROR IN OPINION.

Ir would be sometimes useful, both in order to substantiate a correct opinion, and to detect a false one, to ask the simple question that occurs, for example, at finding ourselves possessed of a suspicious bank-note; "How came it into my possession ?" If the source be either doubtful or unknown, our opinion or our banknote, as the case may happen, demands a careful investigation, for the purpose of ascertaining its authenticity. Men do not materially object to those human laws which render us liable to a legal process for being detected with a forged paper in our possession, even though they know that in many cases it might have been our misfortune and not our crime; still less therefore can we censure the justice of our Creator in punishing us for essentially false opinions in religion, which might have been corrected by the diligent use of the means of Christian information.

A

When upon examination the source to which we retrace our opinion or our bank-note (for the analogy still holds good) is found to be wholly unexceptionable, we must not hastily throw it aside, to please the first person who chooses to affirm that it is false. doctrine or precept evidently derived from the volume of inspiration should satisfy our minds much in the same manner as a note which we remembered having received immediately from the bank from which it purported to issue.

Were we thus at all times accurately to retrace the steps by which we first arrived at any particular conclusion, it would be of inestimable use towards es

timating the value of our sentiments. At one stroke half of the false and absurd opinions which infest the world would be swept away. They could not sustain the cool inquiry, "How were they derived ?" Our

assent would, in future, be proportioned to the evidence produced. We should deliberate calmly, and decide with moderation. Error would melt away, while truth would receive the utmost increase of stability and vigor.

Imagine, for instance, that an intelligent North-Briton, who believed in second-sight almost as firmly as in the truth of revelation, should begin to retrace his ideas upon these subjects to the fountain-head, endeavoring to conduct his investigation with the unsparing impartiality of a neutral inquirer; what would be the result? His first conclusion would possibly be, that as far as concerned himself, both points rested upon exactly equal and similar ground, the mere prejudice of education. Were he to stop here, his religion would suffer just as much as his superstition, and both would lie expiring by a mortal wound. But the next step rectifies the whole. He believed in second-sight by the force of education; and having discarded this prejudice, he finds no rational ground for his opinion. But Christianity he perceives is founded upon evidence, and assumes new claims to credibility in proportion as his scrutiny is more severe. The same process therefore that melted away the dross, would serve only to purify the gold. The wheat would become more valuable, by being separated from the chaff.

It is not, however, always practicable thus to retrace our opinions to their original source, and to ascertain upon what evidence they originally reposed. We oftentimes resemble an aged traveller, who knows that he once visited a certain spot, though he has long lost the manuscript that described his journey. Whether he arrived by water or by land, on foot or in any vehi

cle, is perhaps irrecoverably forgotten; so that he can assert only the unconnected fact of his having certainly been there. A person believes, for instance, that there once existed such an individual as the intolerant Queen Mary; but in what manner he first formed that opinion, he is wholly unable to determine. The fact was probably mentioned to him at a time of life when he was ready to credit the most extravagant fairy tale; so that had he never received subsequent evidence on the subject, he would hardly have failed of classing the fiction and the fact together, and of supposing, that because he had been deceived in the one he was equally so in the other also. The application of these remaks to higher subjects is too obvious to need illustration.

A man of thought, while reflecting upon the mutations of character and the fluctuations of opinion in the world around him, will sometimes look back to observe how his own sentiments were imbibed, and his own character matured. He will thus endeavor to ascertain upon what evidence his opinions rest. In making his retrospective observations, he will soon perceive that the revolutions of empires are not more surprising than the changes which have taken place in his own bosom. He is not the same being he was some twenty years ago.

But should he revert to the faint remembrance of past days, and endeavor to realize long-forgotten incidents, hoping to discover by what process his mind. was formed and his habits of thinking matured, he will soon find himself enveloped in the clouds of darkness and confusion. He discovers that he possesses a thousand opinions for which he can assign scarcely any possible reason. He makes use of the theorem, but has forgotten the demonstration; or, to recur to a former allusion, he finds himself in possession of the note, but knows not whence it was derived. For instance, he has grown up perhaps with an aversion to a