tion and beauty. They are deeply moved by them, because they can be looked upon, and handled, and scrutinized, while those things that are unperceived by mortal sense-which are wrapt up in mystery, and are objects for mental and spiritual contemplation only, excite in them no interest. Such men will not trouble themselves to explore the mine of God's revelation, which would disclose to them treasures of heavenly truth, and possessions for the soul, richer in glory than the purest gold of Ophir. But they will labour for a lifetime to secure stores of a merely perishable substance, that can minister only a temporary gratification. Oh, that men were wise, that they would yield themselves to the elevating in fluence of "things unseen-which are eternal."

The present troubles of life, because they are keenly felt by the external man, and affect so much his outward estate, are much more pungent than those of the soul. Men feel more deeply for the loss of their property or their honour, than they do for the loss of God's friendship and blessing. They weep heavy tears when "the desire of their eyes "is taken away, but they seldom weep at all over their sins, or cry out "God be merciful to me a sinner."

We all live too much in the outer world, and for the external man alone; but it is vastly important to live within, and to nourish the spiritual life and health. We do but dream along the path of life, thinking the thoughts that are nearest, and doing that which suits our sensual taste, or meets the exigencies of the moment, without an intense, ever uppermost consideration of eternity, and reference to future judgment. Yet every thought, word, and action of our external and internal man is an object of the scrutiny of that infinite Mind which grasps all beings and all minds in its vast embrace. Thoughts, motives, words, all have weight in the scales of Divine retribution. Another day they will reappear, and rise before

us like a vast assemblage of unimpeachable witnesses to testify for or against us at the grand assize. Yet we watch not over our "hearts, out of which are the issues of life," nor take heed to our actions and motives, which must become subjects of future investigation; but rush through life hour after hour, year after year, crowding our minds with earthly things, and satisfying ourselves with present enjoyments.

The confines of life and time press closely upon those of eternity. How they seem to touch and intermingle, like the inseparable colours of the rainbow! A moment-a breath—is the link that connects them, the line that parts them. When that last moment shall have passed, when that last breath shall have been expired, how vast and overwhelming the scene that will burst upon the astonished soul! A view un bounded! All the mysteries of life, all the realities of eternity, which in time we knew only by report, and that were to us, while in the body, matters of faith, will then stand out before our astonished apprehension as present facts. To prepare for this vast and grand disclosure is the chief work of life; to get our souls into a state of readiness to "see God" should occupy us throughout the whole of our appointed time on earth.

What is it "to see God?" It is for the finite soul of man to come into close contact with the infinite mind of Deity. It is the soul finding itself beneath the searching gaze of Omniscience, "without a veil between." It is an approach close to the springs of life—an intimate acquaintance with the Omnipotence that sustains the universe in being-a familiar investigation of the infinite wisdom-a free and tender interchange of affection with the God who is Love! Is this what is intended in the promise

"They shall see God ?" And can we, who entertain such anticipations, and expect to enjoy such exalted privileges, be indifferent to the necessary preparation-the indispensable “holi

ordinarily the first act of worship, we proceed to offer some remarks on the exercise itself, and the mode in which it should be observed, so as to render it acceptable to God, and productive of spiritual benefit to his people,

This is in itself a devotional act, and at the same time a preparation, an attuning of the heart, an awakening of all its powers, for the other observances of the house of God. It is an admirable prelude both to prayer and preaching; suggesting topics for the former, as well as giving a tone to the emotions of the soul; while it tends favourably to dispose the heart to listen to the voice of the teacher, when he discourses on the everlasting verities of divine revelation.

The power of music-the magic influence of sweet song-has been felt in every age, and by every people; and the effects thereof have at times been marvellous. The fable of Orpheus seems scarcely more than a slight exaggeration of every day facts. Music can rouse to frenzy and soothe to repose. It can stir up the warrior to deeds of lofty daring, steel his heart against fear, and dry up the fountains of compassion; while it can also subdue the fiercest, and melt to womanly tenderness the haughtiest, heart. A truculent Saul, nursing thoughts of deadly hatred against a supposed adversary, is disarmed of his ferocity, under its genial and gentle touch. We might therefore easily conceive beforehand, that music, especially such music as is the product of the human voice, or rather of many voices, in unison or harmony, would be turned to account in the services of the sanctuary. It is a powerful assistant to devout meditation. The Church of God has in every age paid especial attention to its psalmody, from its known influence over the soul, to predispose it for religious duties. Specific arrangements were made, both in the tabernacle and temple, for the appropriate discharge of this service (1 Chron. vi. 31, 32); and "the Lord Jesus, the same night in which he was betrayed," sanctioned by his pre

sence this ancient custom. It was the very last act performed before the disciples left the supper chamber, whence the Divine Master went forth to the endurance of his great agony; for the sacred historian tells us, "And when they had sung a hymn, they went out into the Mount of Olives."

In the performance of this part of the exercises of the sanctuary, we render a direct homage to God; we exalt and adore his infinitely great and glorious perfections. This act, He has himself expressly told us, is peculiarly acceptable to Him. "Whoso offereth praise glorifieth God!" And oh, how vast, how inexhaustible the theme! God, as He is in himself, "the high and lofty One that inhabiteth eternity;" "without beginning of days or end of years;" the thrice Holy Jehovah, "glorious in holiness, fearful in praises, doing wonders;" "the Mighty God, who created and upholdeth all things by the word of his power;" filling immensity with his presence, and before whose eyes "all things are naked and open;" God, as He is to us, our Creator, Preserver, Father, Friend-God, the merciful as well as the Mighty One; "a just God, and yet a Saviour" of the fallen; "the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have redemption, even the forgiveness of our sins;" and who has secured to us "an inheritance incorruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth not away, reserved for us in heaven," the final home of the emancipated and perfected spirit; where, in the presence of God, it shall realize fulness of joy, and at "His right hand” possess "pleasures that shall endure for evermore!"

These are blessings of a purely spiritual nature, for which we are bound to give God "most humble and hearty thanks." But all our obligations are not then discharged; we must be prepared to recognise and appreciate the ever multiplying mercies of a temporal character, with which our path is con tinually strewed. They, too, are to form the subjects of our song. David's

of the voice, every person is bound to take his part in the outward expression of the praises of God in the sanctuary. Perhaps one reason why many are silent in this part of divine service, is because they suppose that this is more appropriately the duty of the choir than of the congregation. We are aware that we are here touching a vexata quæstio, and that the good or evil of such arrangements would be vigorously contested by those who hold opposing views upon the subject. We have no wish to take either side in the dispute. But we presume all will admit a leader to be necessary, especially if there be no organ-and experience has proved the necessity to be equally as great where there is. Whether the leader have none to help him in sustaining the several parts of the harmony, or be aided by others, who have paid some attention to singing, we apprehend the obligation of the worshippers to join in the act is unaffected thereby. God demands it of all who have the power to do it.

We can conceive of only one valid excuse for omitting to take part in the duty, and that is, when such difficult music is sung, as renders it almost impossible for any one to join, unless he be to some extent conversant with the science of music. This, however, is rarely the case; and a judicious executive, to whom the arrangements of divine service are delegated, will endeavour to avert this evil, either by eschewing such music altogether, or by offering opportunities to the congregation for frequently practising it, so that the difficulties attending its performance may be overcome. This latter mode of action is becoming now very prevalent, by the institution of psalmody classes; and the consequence is, an unquestionably better order of singing than we have

hitherto been accustomed to.

It may be thought fastidious, while speaking on this subject, to refer to the posture we should assume when praise is offered; and yet one remark may not be out of place. The most natural

mode of performing this service is in an erect position. In this act our thoughts are more exercised about the perfections of God than on our own relation towards him; though, of course, this latter subject is not excluded; and the celebration of the praises of the Most High seems to demand such a vigorous and energetic utterance as this posture enables us to give. Thus of old did his people seek him, in accordance with the injunction of the Levites, "Stand up, and bless the Lord your God, for ever and ever."

Of course, on this subject, as on all others, relating to the external acts of religious worship,-keeping in mind the known freedom and elasticity which are characteristic of Christianity, as compared with Judaism, in its stereotyped services-we have no right to dogmatise. The genius of the Gospel is displayed in its insisting upon a scrupulous adherence to the spirit of religion, and in a marked indifference to any particular forms. So that it may, with the most perfect truth be said, "It is lawful to adopt any posture, in this or any other part of divine worship." But while cheerfully conceding all that is demanded on this point, it may at the same time be allowed, that the lawful is not always the expedient; and that, according to the views of the great majority of worshippers, one mode of observance has a decided preference over others, and is more congruous with the design of the act. That mode we have just indicated. To us it appears the most seemly and suitable.

PRAYER.

We have next to refer to that part of the services of the sanctuary in which there is a direct approach to "the throne of the heavenly grace;" and where man appears in the attitude of a suppliant for those favours

that God alone can bestow.

Prayer is one of the most solemn
Neh. ix. 5.