was a general observer, with an exercise of his judgment.

We have taken this passage as an introduction to a few observations on a topic of considerable interest. We are placed in a very busy world, full of "works," transactions, events, varieties of human character and action. We witness them-hear of them-think of them-talk of them. Now, it is a matter of great importance that we should do this wisely, so as to turn these things to a profitable account. Do it, in one manner or another, we certainly shall. We shall, indeed, all acknowledge the duty, to every one, of minding his own business. But very few will be disposed to circumscribe that duty, so as to preclude a great deal of attention to what the rest of mankind are doing. There may be a very few (here and there one) that do endeavour to limit the sphere of their attention by a very strict and narrow boundary. They have a stress of care and employment immediately and constantly upon them; and of a nature not much spreading out into connexions with the surrounding world. And they are naturally not inquisitive. They willingly, therefore, keep their attention closed in, and occupied on strictly their own business. We mean not to censure this, except

as an extreme.

may

There is another class, formerly more numerous, that be called pious recluses; persons who are not pressed and harassed by the exactions of worldly business, and of a retired, devout, and meditative spirit. They feel that much looking on the world would disturb and distract the calm tenor of their

C

thoughts and affections. They feel as if their spirits could not ascend toward heaven, but by being drawn in from the earth. They endeavour to forget the world, in order to be exempt from its evil influences, and to be the more devoted to its Lord. They have found, they say, that the world can do them no good, and they can do it none, except by their prayers. Neither on this class do we wish to pronounce a censure, excepting in particular instances. have been instances in which such a mode of life has been a mistake and a desertion of duty. There was in the century before last, a very remarkable man of the name of Nicholas Ferrar, the account of whose life one has never recollected without regret, and a degree of indignation.

There

But, we repeat, there is little danger now, of men's becoming recluses, ascetics, devotees ;-voluntarily and systematically secluded from all attention to, and communication with, the active scenes of the world. For one thing, in this age, men's own concerns— really and strictly their own-are becoming more implicated with the transactions of the wide, busy world. In the case of perhaps thousands of men in this country, their immediate interests their proceedings even their duty-are sensibly affected by what may be doing on the other side of the globe,in South America, or in Spain, Italy, Constantinople. The movements in such remote scenes send an effect like the far-extending tremulations of an earthquake, which comes under the house, the business, the property, of men even here.

It is, besides, most obvious that the world is

agitated, changing, Men are forced to

becoming a far more active, tumultuous scene than formerly. feel the evidence and effect of this; it comes upon them with an inundation of intelligence, events, omens, and alarms. And, withal, the pervading, connecting principle of community, throughout mankind, as one immense body, has become much more alive. It is becoming much more verified to be one body, however extended, by the quicker, stronger sensation which pervades the rest of it, from what affects any part. There is indeed, much of diseased and irritable sensibility; it is as if the parts were a grievance to one another, and would quarrel; as if, like the hyena at Paris, the great animal would devour one of its own limbs. But still the great body is much more sensibly made to feel that it has its existence in all its parts.

A more pleasing circumstance of this enlarging sense of community, is,-that benevolence, and especially Christian benevolence, is now prosecuting its operations, not only with far greater activity and multiplicity of efforts, but on a far wider plan. Thus, the religious interests, thoughts, and discourse of private individuals, are drawn out into some connection, almost whether they will or not, with numerous proceedings and occurrences, both at home and far off. From all this, and many more considerations which might be added, it is certain enough, that we shall not be disposed to confine our thinking and conversation to our own concerns in a very strict sense. It may be added that the Holy Scriptures plainly encourage an exercise of thoughtful attention

on the actions and characters of men, and the course of the world's events.

But now comes the question, as to the proper manner of doing this, so that it may really be beneficial.

one;

In the first place; if this attention to the actions and events of the world, be employed merely in the way of amusement, there will be little good. It is so with many. They have no fixed, serious, interest and purpose, to occupy their minds; no grand homebusiness, within their own spirits. Yet they must have something to keep their faculties in a pleasant activity, or call it play. The mind, therefore, flies out as naturally and eagerly as a bird would from an opened cage. The attention rambles hither and thither, with light momentary notices of things; great and small;-here, there, or yonder; it is all "welcome!" and "begone!" to each in turn. Great and small, when mere amusement is the object, are made equal in one respect; namely, that no solid good is exacted or drawn from any of them. What is sought of them is, to keep the mind agreeably in motion, and prevent that most unpleasant circumstance,—not to say frightful one, that the thoughts should come gravely home upon the soul itself; or, to prevent an utter stagnation of existence. A part of this vain disposition is, the eagerness for novelty, merely as such. Anything new, no matter what. This is a practical confession, "I have obtained no substantial abiding good from the ten thousand things that I have transiently noticed before.' Like the condition of a man who looks along a great variety

of fruit-trees, but may eat of none. When he is to do no more than look at them, his eye will quickly pass on to another and another. Now, how useless is such a manner of "applying the heart!”

But there may be another manner much worse than useless. For attention may be exercised on the actions, characters, and events among mankind, in the direct service of the evil passions; in the disposition of a savage beast, or an evil spirit ; in a keen watchfulness to descry weakness, in order to make a prey of it:-in an attentive observation of mistake, ignorance, carelessness, or untoward accidents, in order to seize, with remorseless selfishness, unjust advantages ;-in a penetrating inquisition into men's conduct and character, in order to blast them; or (in a lighter mood) to turn them indiscriminately to ridicule. Or there may be such an exercise, in the temper of envy, jealousy, or revenge; or (somewhat more excusably, but still mischievously) for the purpose of exalting the observer in his Own estimation.

But, there would be no end of describing the useless and pernicious modes of doing that which our text expresses. Let us try to form some notion of what would be the right one. In doing so there is one most important consideration to be kept in mind; that is, the necessity of having just principles or rules, to be applied in our observation of the world. The principles will be applied continually; and therefore, a few unsound ones may soon produce a thousand wrong judgments. And all these, in return, confirm the principles wrong. To have them