may produce a like benign and kindly influence on the body. In general the practice of mankind, alas! is exactly the reverse. They indulge passions in the soul, which destroy the health of the body; and introduce distempers into the body, which clog and obstruct the faculties of the soul.

But the difficulties and hardships to be encountered in a course of self-denial, it will still be said, perhaps, are very discouraging. The objection may be in some measure obviated by a

Fourth argument on its behalf, deduced from the examples frequently set us by the men of the world.

Our blessed Master has observed, that "the children of this world are in their generation wiser than "the children of light." It may be said with equal truth, that they have generally more zeal, more fortitude, more patience and perseverance. There is not a votary of wealth, pleasure, power, or fame, who cannot, and who does not, upon occasion, practise a self-denial, which few Christians can be preyailed to practise in a much better cause; a self-denial more severe and rigid, indeed, than they are often called upon to practise.

For the sake of collecting what is never to be used, and adding to his beloved heap, the miser will forego the comforts, the conveniences, and almost the necessaries of existence, and voluntarily submit all his days to the penances and austerities of a mendicant.

The discipline of a life in fashion is by no means of the mildest kind; and it is common to meet with those who complain of being worn down, and ready to sink under it. But how can they help it? What

can they do? They are driven and compelled to it; they are fast bound by the adamantine chains of a necessity-not philosophical indeed-but one equally inexorable and irresistible.

ster.

Consider the vigils and the abstinence of the gameTo discharge with propriety the duties of his profession, it is expedient that he keep his habit cool, and his head clear. His diet is therefore almost as spare as that of St. John in the wilderness; and he drinks neither wine nor strong drink, lest, instead of his cheating his friend, his friend should cheat him.

Consider the toil and the fatigue willingly undergone by one whose delight is placed in the sports of the field, and the pleasures of the chase. How early does he rise! How late is he abroad! "In hunger "and thirst, in fastings often, in cold and rain. "None of these things move him, neither counts he "his life dear unto himself," being well content often to put it to the extremest hazard.

Look at the aspirant to power. He wears a countenance always suited to the present occasion. No symptom of inward uneasiness is suffered to appear in it. He holds his passions in the most absolute subjection. Hitherto," says he to every one of them, "shalt thou come, but no farther." He takes patiently and cheerfully affronts and insults. He bears and forbears. Can the Stoic, can the inhabitant of le Trappe, do more? Exemplary instances of mortification and self-denial are not confined to the desert or to the cloister. They may be found in a

court.

How often does the candidate for literary fame pursue his proposition, or his problem, or his system, regardless of food and rest, till his eyes fail, his nerves are shattered, his spirits are exhausted, and his health is gone! But greater things than these are still behind.

At the call of honour, a young man of family and fortune, accustomed to the gratifications of the table, and a life of ease and voluptuousness, quits every valuable and tender connexion at home, and submits at once to all the painful duties and hard fare of a camp in an enemy's country. He travels through dreary swamps and inhospitable forests, guided only by the track of savages. He traverses mountains, he passes and repasses rivers, and marches several hundred miles, with scarcely bread to eat or change of raiment to put on. When night comes he sleeps on the ground, or, perhaps, sleeps not at all; and at the dawn of day resumes his labour. At length, he is so fortunate as to find his enemy. He braves

death, amid all the horrors of the field. He sees his companions fall around him-he is wounded, and carried into a tent, or laid in a waggon, where he is left to suffer pain and anguish, with the noise of destruction sounding in his ears. After some weeks, he recovers, and enters afresh upon duty.And does the Captain of thy salvation, O thou who stylest thyself the soldier and servant of Jesus Christ-does he require any thing like this at thy hands? Or canst thou deem him an austere master, because thou art enjoined to live in sobriety and purity, to subdue a turbulent passion, to watch an hour some

times unto prayer, or to miss a meal now and then, during the season of repentance and humiliation? Blush for shame, and hide thy face in the dust!

More strange and inexcusable still will this conduct of the Christian appear, when we consider, in

the

Fifth and last place, the rewards annexed to the practice of self-denial.

Many and great are its advantages in the present life. The lightness of spirits, the cheerfulness of heart, the serenity of temper, the alacrity of mind, the vigour of understanding, the obedience of the will, the freedom from bad desires, and the propensity to good ones, produced by a prudent and judicious abstinence, are inconceivable by those who have never experienced them, and fully justify, to those who have experienced them, the highest encomiums pronounced by the ancient fathers of the church on this evangelical precept, and the blessedness of observing it. For think not that the felicity, any more than the virtue, of man, consists in gratifying at all times his own humour, and following his own will; since his humour is perverse, and his will depraved. We are, in very deed, the oldest of us, children, wayward children; and unless we would be miserable as well as vicious, we must treat ourselves as we do our children. Now, compare the child that is taught submission and obedience, with him that "is humoured in every thing. How rational, cheerful, agreeable, and happy is the one! How ri"diculous, peevish, disagreeable, and unhappy is "the other! The smallest favour done the first, is

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"received and acknowledged as a particular obliga"tion: the greatest kindness done to the other, is "either rejected with disdain, or received with thank"less ill-manners. The more you strive to please "him, the more difficult he is to be pleased; till "at length nothing will satisfy or oblige him, because he hath been obliged in all things.—Betimes, "therefore, accustom your desires, like children, to disappointments. Deny them every thing they ask "for, that is improper for them to obtain; nay, every thing (be it what it may) which they ask for in an improper manner. This will be so far from sour"ing the temper (as some have weakly suggested in "the case of children), that it will give you, as well "as them, a confirmed habit of acquiescing in what is right; of cheerfully submitting, when

your wills are over-ruled; of receiving every thing with pleasure and gratitude, in which you are indulged; "above all, of controlling every sudden passion that

may arise; of commanding and moderating every "desire; of resigning to the appointments of Provi"dence, through every situation and period of life." And if this be not happiness, say, where it is to be found, and where is the place thereof?—It is the happiness of a hero, the joy and the glory of a conqueror, returning from the field of battle triumphant through grace, and dragging the enemies of his salvation fast bound to his chariot-wheels. When self-denial has thus wrought its perfect work within you, the kingdom of heaven is there-and that kingdom is righteousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost.