self-indulgence: if the weather be favourable, for a visít, a ramble, or an excursion; and if unfavourable, for sleeping, indolence, and eating and drinking to excess.

On this day, we repeat, men show us, more than they have opportunity to do on other days, what they really are; and in order that you may form a true estimate of your own character, as to your worldly-mindedness or spirituality, we affectionately and solemnly put the question to you with which we commenced-How do you spend the Lord's day?

We are aware of the excuses generally made for the neglect of this day. One tells us, he cannot obtain a living without working on this day as well as the rest; another, that he can worship his Creator better in the fields than many do in the house of God; another, that he is as good as those who are so very strict in their religious duties; another, that his health requires air and exercise; another, that he has not fit clothes. These are a few of the excuses generally made by those who neglect the public religious duties of the day. Some persons, undoubtedly, are so situated, that they cannot attend in the house of God, or at least only occasionally; and sickness, the cares of a family, and similar obstacles, are, no doubt, often too great to be surmounted. But the mass of sabbath-neglecters cannot plead these excuses; and let us solemnly remind you, whatever your excuse be, examine it well, for the hour is coming when you will have to stand before the bar of God, to give an account of your actions, where no false plea will avail. In that day, it will be found that with the majority the profanation of the Lord's day was owing, not to men being unable, but unwilling, to attend to its duties, and that their neglect of its sacred claims was more attributable to their inclination than to their circumstances.

It is a solemn thought, that the manner in which you prefer to spend the Lord's day in this world, is an indication of the manner in which you will spend eternity. If you, on each returning sabbath, love to seek God where he is most specially to be found; if you love to attend in the courts of the Lord, and seek him in his house, his word, and in prayer; and thus, shaking off the world, approach nearer to the great centre of joy, and peace, and blessedness, it affords ground for the hope, that you will spend eternity

in the same manner, unspeakably happy in the presence of God, and delighting yourself in that fulness of joy which the spirits above feel in the presence of their Lord. But if you have no such desires to worship him in his house, seek him in prayer, be purified by his Spirit, or taught by his word, and profane his day; if the sabbath is a weariness to you, and you feel a greater love to the worldly engagements of the other six days than to its holy duties; then it stamps your character as a worldling, and is an indication that if unchanged you must spend eternity far from God and happiness. What has been your choice here will there be your necessary punishment; and the distance from God which you have preferred upon earth, will, to your sorrow and shame, be your everlasting portion in the regions of misery.

Reader, if you are one of those who habitually dishonour the Lord's day, and live in the neglect of its duties and privileges, be assured your heart is at enmity with God, and if you die in this state you are lost for ever. If you feel no pleasure in the spiritual duties of God's house and God's day, you would not be happy even in heaven itself, could you be admitted there; for the spiritual pleasures of the sabbath and the pleasures of heaven differ not in kind, but only in degree. O listen to the voice of remonstrance. Consider, the great end of your being is a preparation for heaven; and will you waste the golden hours of leisure which God, in his mercy, has specially given you for this purpose? Your remaining sabbaths on earth may, perhaps, be very few; and many of those that are past can witness to your neglect and carelessness. O turn in penitence to your insulted God, and he will turn in mercy unto you, and forgive you. Seek his forgiveness for the past, and his grace for the future. "Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you,' Matt. vii. 7. "This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners," 1 Tim. i. 15. "Behold the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the world,” John i. 29. "Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts and let him return unto the Lord, and he will have mercy upon him; and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon," Isa. lv. 7: and let your resolution and prayer

ye

be that of the psalmist, "I will keep thy statutes: O forsake me not utterly," Psa. cxix. 8. So shall your earthly sabbaths, reverenced and improved, prepare you for the eternal rest of heaven; so shall a new heart be given you, a fountain of peace and joy shall spring up in your bosom, your life shall be peaceful, and your death shall be happy, and throughout eternity you will praise God that you reverenced his sabbaths and his sanctuary.

S. W. P.

SKETCHES FROM REAL LIFE.

INDOLENCE.

THE religion of our blessed Saviour Jesus Christ not only opens to the Christian the bright prospects of life and immortality beyond this transitory world, but affords by its precepts a better guide to happiness in the present state than can elsewhere be found. In filling the various relationships of life, if we were to bring our religious principles into action, and test our conduct by the unerring rules of the New Testament, we should seldom find ourselves at a loss how to act. True religion is the basis of all sound morality, and teaches us to be better parents, children, friends, and neighbours.

How important is the character of the wife! How much of home-comfort depends upon her! Who can see a young wife, animated by hope, and, though inexperienced, desirous to act rightly, without a fond, a pious desire, that she may escape the faults and failings that some fall into? Let us offer to the attention of such, a few rapid sketches of characters to be met with in common life, which, after all the portraits of imagination, afford the best warnings and examples.

Mrs. Clifford and Mrs. Rodney are parallel characters, but placed in very different worldly circumstances. Mrs. Clifford is the wife of a wealthy banker in one of our largest country towns. Mrs. Rodney was (for she is now an altered woman) the hindrance, not helpmate, of an industrious labouring man in one of the suburbs of London.

When they had each been married but a few years, and the family of both the rich and the poor woman demanded

equal attention at their respective hands, discomfort reigned in the miserable abode of Mrs. Rodney, and equally so in the mansion of Mrs. Clifford.

"How does Mrs. Clifford employ her time?" said a lady to one of the acquaintances of Mrs. C.: "I really can scarcely tell," was the reply; "chiefly in lying on the sofa, I think; she reads a little, when any light, entertaining work falls under her notice, and she works a very little sometimes. The children fatigue her so much, that she is obliged to entrust them to the care of their numerous nurses; and they ought to perform their duties well, for extravagant wages are paid them." Being present during this conversation, I determined on my next visit to Mrs. C. to observe closely the effects, which I doubted not might readily be discerned, from the indolent disposition of the lady.

The reader may imagine a noble house, furnished in excellent style; where attention to luxurious ease and enjoyment, ornament and taste, are displayed. Rich wines are here handed on silver salvers; costly food daily crowns the table; the air is fragrant with the scent of choice flowers; and carriages are at hand to convey the inmates to every scene that can amuse or delight.

On the downy cushions of a silken sofa reclined the lady of the mansion, richly dressed; her countenance was interesting, her appearance that of full health.

She rose with a languid air on our entrance, and to the kind inquiries of her intimate friend, whom I accompanied on this visit, gave us a long list of troubles. "She was," she said, "so nervous herself; her children did not thrive as she could wish; her servants had been carrying on scheme after scheme of mischief, and had only by accident been detected; her infant had been subjected to unheard of danger, by the careless nurse! Mr. Clifford was going from home on urgent business, and what was she to do when left alone! She wished her husband would give up his share in the banking-house, for she was not able to contend with servants and family cares, as many ladies were!" Here she leaned back, almost exhausted, and ordered a pampered domestic to bring in wine.

The friend of Mrs. Clifford expressed regret to learn that she was a personal sufferer, and asked of what she chiefly complained.

"I have no complaint but that of general debility," was the reply; "I have not energy enough to rise from my bed till near mid-day."

"And then," replied the friend, "I suppose you endeavour to brace your nerves by immediately getting into the open air, to walk with your children."

I never walk; I am not strong enough; and the children

tire ine in half an hour."

"Let us see the little dears," said Mrs. Clifford's friend; upon which, with weary steps, the mother led us to a nursery, where no expense had been spared to provide all things suitable for the comfort and amusement of the little gentlefolks, who, from the appearance they presented, however, seemed neither comfortable nor amused. Three gaily dressed nursery maids attended on the elder children, who were quarrelling and screaming among piles of gaudy and expensive playthings, mostly demolished. An infant, peevish and fractious from feverish excitement, lay on the bosom of one who was to perform a mother's duty towards it, but whose flaunting air and inconsistent dress proclaimed that she was no fit person to take a parent's dearest treasure to her arms. Each child bore evident marks of bad nursing and neglect, while the fond but indolent mother comforted herself that she had spared no expense to have her children well taken care of. "I have employed the first-rate

nurses!" these were her words.

Even a brief glance at the kitchen, as we walked past, and heard parts of the conversation going on there, led us to give full credit to the lady's statement, that baskets full of provision were smuggled out of the house before she rose from her bed, and that company of no pleasant kind was smuggled into the house after she had retired to it; that waste pervaded every department, and misrule reigned paramount throughout.

On returning to the drawing-room, we found Mr. Clifford preparing for his journey, which was to take place almost immediately. After apologizing to us for continuing to make his arrangements, he said to his wife: "I suppose you sent Morris for those papers, my dear, as I requested you; I want them immediately."

"I quite forgot it, dear," was the drawling reply.

A mortified expression passed over the husband's face;