descend and claim fellowship with the base and the worthless, because such fellowship may be accompanied by temporary advantage?—that the commands of God and the opinion of the world should alike be disregarded and contemned, so that Moab lay its riches at their feet? "A heart they have," says St. Peter," exercised with covetous practices; which have forsaken the right way, and are gone astray, following the way of Balaam, the son of Bosor, who loved the wages of unrighteousness." Again; are there none under the dominion of pleasure, when all the powers, all the passions, all the qualities of body, and soul, and spirit, are bent to procure self-gratification, and the stream of holy affection is turned from its course, and made to flow in the foul and polluted channels of sensual indulgence? The spectacle with which the eyes of men are so often afflicted-of talents exerted for the worst and basest purposes, riches squandered in the haunts of evil, the living fire of genius quenched in the stench of corruption-is indeed enough to moderate

our self-esteem. We feel ourselves abased in the abasement of our species, degraded in the degradation of our kind; and exclaim, "Lord, what is man that thou art mindful of him!"

But we shall not be deriving, perhaps, the most useful lesson from the narrative before us, unless we also observe how the desire of heavenly things long survives the pursuit of them, and the wish to enjoy the glories and rewards of immortality outlives all efforts for their attainment; how, even when the way of righteousness has been abandoned, and its path forsaken, the aspiration of the heart still continues to be, "Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his." I speak, of course, of those who have been educated in the principles of religion, who have been brought up in the fear of God, in the knowledge of his way, and in respect to his commands; of those who have been taught to view the Almighty as their Father, and to consider Christ as their Saviour and their Judge; of those who have been accustomed from their

youth up to deem the inheritance of the just made perfect-the prize of their high calling, as the main object of their existence; who have once known the truth as it is in Jesus. Temptation has come, and prevailed. Trial has come, and they have yielded. Danger has come, and they have fallen. Slow, perhaps, was the conquest which has been achieved. Difficult was the victory which has been won against the better powers of the soul; and in no instance, probably, was the triumph ever obtained, except by that deceitfulness of sin, which, while it withdraws the soul from God, the feet from the way of duty and of life, still leaves the hope, the wish, the desire to return-the withered bloom which tells the promise that once was there.

We see resolution sinking under trial, yielding to temptation; the tree which appeared able to sustain the whirlwind, bending to the breeze; the rock which boasted to arrest the torrent, undermined and overthrown by the mere dropping of the waters; the soul which aspired even

unto heaven, drooping its wing, till it but skims along the earth. We see man setting out upon his journey, firm in resolution, ardent in hope, confident in faith. Difficulties are courted, as if for the pleasure of the conquest; dangers are sought, as if for the glory of the victory; but pleasure spreads her snares, ambition her toils, and not in vain. He strays further and further from the way of righteousness, till religion dwindles into the cold and ineffective wish, "Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his." Still hope survives when faith has fled, and charity has faded away. And this hope, this barren wish to inherit eternal life, is often mistaken for the righteousness which alone can give a title to that inheritance; the belief in immortality is substituted for the living faith which is necessary to enable us to attain unto it; the feeble desire to do good, for the active love which alone can make us meet for it.

Finally, then, this history affords to the young a lesson of peculiar interest.

It

warns them not to mistake knowledge for holiness, the powers of the intellect for those of the spirit, the efforts of the understanding for those of the heart. They may have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge; they may have all faith, so that they can remove mountains; but, if they have not charity, they are nothing more than a sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal. It tells them of the danger of trifling with the purity and integrity of their conscience; of the peril of indulging in delusive exculpations of their own conduct; of the importance of perfect simplicity in all their dealing, perfect sincerity in all their self-examinations, perfect unreserve in all their approaches to the throne of grace. Let them avoid, as they would a pestilence, all attempts at reconciling their duty with their inclination. If once they begin to argue and to plead-if once they admit the sophisms of worldly affection or of sensual passion to mingle in their searchings after the will of God-they let in a flood which, in all human probability,