evade it, or at least to approach it very slowly and languidly. If we attach to it nothing but the ideas of force, difficulty, toil and weariness; we shall bring to it reluctance, indolence and feebleness. We shall not covet to excel in this hallowed style of living, so long as there appears in it nothing pleasant, inviting and lovely. It must appear in a pleasing, grateful and alluring light to us. To live to God, must appear to us not only a propriety, an obligation, a virtue, a necessity, a remote advantage, a demanded preparation for future happiness; but a rich, present, positive, and conscious enjoyment. To shew that it is so, surely hardly asks for an argument. Can it be required to prove that it must be happy to live as near as possible according to the end for which we were made to walk in that high path, which more than any other, lies beyond the reach of disorder, evil and peril-to pursue the purest, most ennobling and most satisfying objects-to be rightly affected towards infinite excellence-to emulate the highest, loveliest and happiest orders of being-to approach in feeling, in act, in service, the life of seraphs-to have "fellowship with God"-to enjoy the brightest tokens of his friendship, the surest pledges of safety, and the richest earnests of eternal bliss-to live "in God and God in us?" Is it wonderful that such a life should bring "a peace that passeth understanding," and "a joy that is unspeakable and full of glory?" Let us learn to cherish these views. Let us be thoroughly persuaded that this godly life is thus pleasant and happy. Let these be our settled ideas of it. We should never think of it but as of something agreeable, peaceful and delightful. These should be our customary, easy, unforced thoughts of

it. In our ordinary, every-day reflections upon it, we should throw around it, a pleasantness, an attractive cheerfulness, a lovely and winning blessedness. When therefore we think of acting to the glory of God, let us think of it, not only as something we ought to do, and which we must do, but which is exceedingly pleasant, satisfying and blissful to do. How safely may we indulge such views of that in which the saints of God in all ages have fonnd such peculiar, exquisite and inexpressible sweetness! And how greatly will such an estimate and habit of thinking of it, tend to draw our hearts towards it, and to stir and quicken our zeal and diligence in its acquisition! Could we transfuse into our description what a christian feels when engaged in his highest acts of glorifying God, what a page should we present! How would every thought breathe bliss, and every word glow with glory! But these sensations are sacred. They dwell in a Christian's own breast. They are beyond description. They even "pass understanding." "The secret of the Lord is with them that fear him."

VI. Enlarged and increasing views of the claims of God will materially tend to a constant and eminent regard to the divine honour. What those claims are, we have already seen. We contemplated them in the character of motives. But they will move us only by being understood and in the degree in which they are understood. We must see what these rights are, and be convinced that they are rights. We must deeply acquaint ourselves with them. We must admit those claims which rise out of our creation, our dependency for continued existence and life, our

multiplied blessings, our accountability to God as the Moral Governor of the Universe, and our Redemption. How real, how clear, how peculiar, how entire, how irremissible are these claims! With what variety and with what comprehensiveness, with what sternness, and yet with what tenderness do they exhibit themselves! And how powerful, certain, and triumphant is their action upon every mind spiritually fitted to perceive and appreciate them! Will he who understands and feels these claims, content himself with the selfish conclusion that it is not needful to aim so high? Will not these claims be felt as motives as so many ceaseless and irresistible impulses urging him upward to "the mark of the prize of his high calling?" Let us then use every means of multiplying and enlarging our discoveries of these incentives. Let us search for them in ourselves in those relations in which we stand to God. Let us look for them in creation and providence; or rather open our minds to receive them as they force themselves upon us from every side. But especially let us study them in the book of God. Here the "hidden glory lies," which shall light and lure our steps to the infinite and eternal excellency. It is by this path of light that saints have ever sought their highest end. In this illuminated way they have travelled up to God. If we would advance therefore in this godly course, our plain and simple duty is to search well the holy scriptures. By these "the man of God is to be thoroughly furnished." Those who have been most remarkable for "the life of God," have also been especially distinguished for their ardent study of the word of God." This fact is so apparent and known, as not to call for particular ex

amples. And certainly we shall not neglect this divine expedient with impunity and safety. A duè attention to the scriptures is a strong and direct application of all the great forces which are intended to bear upon the springs of godliness.

VII. Meditative habits will also be found highly advantageous. Thinking of God is essential to our glorifying him. We cannot honour him and forget him at the same time. He is not magnified by us if we refuse or neglect so much as to think of him. It is the mark of "the wicked who contemn God," that "he is not in all their thoughts." To allow entire thoughtlessness of God, is to dishonour and despise him; and seldom to think upon him is but feebly and doubtfully to honour him. Frequently, earnestly, deeply to meditate upon him, is allied and essential to that high and becoming homage which he claims. This cherished contemplation of God was associated, we might say, identified, in saints of ancient days, with those admiring, adoring, self-devoting sentiments which highly glorify God. "O God, thou art my God, early will I seek thee: my soul thirsteth for thee, my flesh longeth for thee in a dry and thirsty land, where no water is; to see thy power and thy glory, so as I have seen thee in the sanctuary. Because thy loving-kindness is better than life, my lips shall praise thee. Thus will I bless thee while I live: I will lift up my hands in thy name. My soul shall be satisfied as with marrow and fatness; and my mouth shall praise thee with joyful lips; when I remember thee upon my bed, and meditate on thee in the night watches." But the

* Psalm lxiii, 1—6.

need and subserviency of meditation will especially appear when we recollect that it is our end of action, on which we are called to think.

of necessity think of the ends they seek? thinking enter into the very notion of it?

Do not men

Does not

Can that

be our end which is never thought of as such? Can we do a thing for a certain end, when that end is not in our minds? Can that be a reason for what we do, which is not thought of as such? Do we aim at that which the eye never fixes on? Can there be a purpose without thinking? How necessary is it then to meditate upon the glory of God, if we would have it the real, chief, all-comprehensive end we aim at. It is by contemplating it that we shall keep it before us. Without this habit, other ends will slide in and ex

clude the proper one. Have we qualities predisposing us to seek this end? It is by meditation they are exercised, developed and rendered effective. They live, and breathe, and work in thought. Without reflection they are dormant and useless. Thought awakens them, elicits them, gives them occasion, space and means for exercise and action. Have motives to actuate us to these high aims? It is by meditation they act upon us. This gives them if not their power, at least their opportunity of exerting it. It is "when we muse that this fire burns." Without thinking, these inducements lie spiritless, and strengthless in the mind. It is also by meditation that we converse and become familiar with our end. By this we are urged towards it. By this we rationally and naturally find it as the resting place of our minds—as our very dwelling. It is by becoming thought that we seek our desired repose in God.