mind of an intelligent Christian in the instructions of his Master to interdict the enjoyment of pleasure, and the experience of happiness. Christianity is a message of glad tidings, designed to make men happy, to spread the garment of praise over mankind, and inspire their souls with cheerfulness and love. It is but a narrow view of it that would build monasteries and nunneries, and call upon men and women to leave the scenes of the world for the gloomy shades of the cloister. But while the teachings of the Gospel are consistent with happiness, they demand that men shall exercise their capacities and susceptibilities in a rational manner, and for a useful purpose. The Gospel demands that they shall do nothing which is calculated to interfere with the culture of true excellence, the great design of their being, and that they shall engage in nothing which may not be promotive of this directly or indirectly. It calls upon them therefore, to lead lives of thoughtfulness, and to consult the will and glory of God continually.

With the spirit which these views inculcate, Christians may participate in scenes of pleasure, for then these will not become scenes of moral dissipation. They will retain their self-control, and not be hurried blindly into the commission of acts, which may and ought to cause shame and mortification. There will be nothing in such occasions to corrupt the thoughts and to inflame unholy passions in the heart. Christians will return from such scenes, not debilitated in body and mind, but refreshed, and ready to discharge faithfully the duties of life: the love of God will not be driven from them, nor will their zeal for the service of their Master be made cold by excessive indulgence. Fidelity to the Gospel demands that men should not engage in anything upon which they may not consistently invoke the blessing of God, and this is a good criterion by which to estimate the worthiness of the pursuits in which they engage. If they have any doubts about the propriety of them, it would seem to be a duty to abandon them, for they cannot continue in such pursuits without violating their integrity, and that is a long step in the downfall of the soul from its high calling. If Christians feel that it would be wrong to ask God to bless them in their scenes of pleasure, because those scenes are not free from objections of a moral nature to their own minds, they may be sure it is their duty not to continue in them. Among

the scenes and occasions which may be classed with such as these, are all those the enjoyment of which is a mere idle waste of time, and which lead to the neglect of opportunities for doing something good; all those which are injurious to health, and end in mere sensual indulgence; all that are calculated to induce extravagance and immodesty in deportment, or to leave an impression on the mind which shall be prejudicial to the highest purity of thought or desire afterwards.

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The true Christian is not therefore called upon to flee from pleasure, for great good may often be derived from scenes of amusement, if those scenes are what they ought to be and are engaged in from correct motives; but pleasure may never be made the end of his desires, for if it be, he will indulge a spirit which is inconsistent with the will and the glory of God, and opposed to the consummation of his destiny. He is bound to live thoughtfully, to remember that he is a man, and not waste his intellectual and moral energies by pursuing the shadow of happiness. Let him have the right spirit, the true motive, and all the scenes in which he shall engage will be good and proper, the whole of life will be an act of religious duty.

J. A. B.

HEAVENLY VISIONS.

"I was not disobedient to the heavenly vision," said Paul, in reference to that event which changed the whole character of his life. His was a special case. Yet that person is greatly to be pitied who has had no heavenly visions, or to whom such visions are only matters of history or tradition. His condition is almost hopeless, who has no personal knowledge, no occasional glimpses of that spiritual world to which the wise and good of all ages have aspired. There can be but few, we think, if any, who have not had at some time, especially in youth, even if it have been only for a moment, some direct intercourse with God and heaven. These are occasions of divine inspiration. Or, in the words of another, "they are the seed-time of life. Then we live whole years, though in a few moments; and afterwards, as we journey

on through life, cold and dusty, travel-worn and faint, we look back to that moment as the source of light, and like Elisha go long days in the strength thereof. The remembrance of the truth and love which then dawned on us goes like a great wakening light, a pillar of fire in the heavens, to guide us in our lonely pilgrimage." Or, as the poet has expressed it :

"There are bright hours, when o'er the laboring breast,
With toil, with trial, and with care oppressed,

Longing for peace, and faint beneath its woes,

Some fancied scene of quiet and repose

Comes, like the breathing of a sudden strain

Of music o'er a midnight couch of pain;

As if designed to solace and to cheer

The weary soul in its sojourning here.

And fancies come; we know not whence their source;

To bear us on with all absorbing force,

Beyond the gnawing cares, the envenomed strife

And all the stern realities of life ;

Thoughts, which o'erwhelm the soul, with the intense
O'erpowering weight of their magnificence;

Visions of untold beauty sweeping by

Before the wondering dreamer's raptured eye;
And strains of melody, whose faintest tone
Is rich beyond what earth has ever known;
Scenes of unearthly beauty, which defy
All art to paint their gorgeous pageantry;
Inspiring feelings, thoughts and hopes, which tower
Above the limits of description's power."

These occasions are not numerous with any of us. To those who perhaps have felt this uplifting of the soul, but once in their lives, it may seem unreal, when they look back upon it; they may count it a dream of their inexperience, a scene of a sickly fancy, and cease to feel its power. They are unfaithful to the heavenly vision, and the recollection of it fades from their minds. The world with its degrading cares and selfish pursuits comes gradually between them and God, and they afterwards grope in darkness or receive only the light of human wisdom.

How common it is for men to lose the faith of their early days and to glory in their later attainments of reason and philosophy.

To the young who believe that this world may be reformed, may be filled with righteousness, truth and love, or be made to harmonise with their ideal world, men say, 'You are only dreaming now, you are only preparing yourselves for disappointment by cherishing such visions; experience will disappoint all these youthful fancies, as it has ours, and the time will come when you will be surprised that you could ever have cherished them as realities.' They whose minds are filled with an ideal truth and beauty, an ideal perfection and happiness, such as inspires in them hope, earnest endeavor, moral and religious enthusiasm, with all that can give vigor and pleasure to life, such persons are generally regarded as idle dreamers by the wise, prudent, practical men of our times. But may there not be a higher wisdom, a more profound and practical philosophy, in the simple faith of our childhood, or the heavenly visions of our youth, than the world has ever known? For whence come these visions to the young and vigorous heart;— scenes, the impressions of which a life of worldliness and sin can never entirely erase from the mind? Is it not our spiritual nature seeking, apprehending, and reaching out towards its true objects? And these objects—are they dreams and shadows? O no; they are the greatest, we might say, the only realities in the universe. Eye hath not seen, ear hath not heard, neither yet hath it entered into the mind of man to conceive of anything so true and beautiful, so great and glorious, as Infinite Power has created or as eternity will unfold. There are scenes in that heavenly world far more bright and beautiful than any which the poet's glowing language can describe. All that the soul has seen in its highest moments of communion are but partial glimpses of its divine objects, but partial views of that celestial truth and beauty, that blessedness and love, which the Infinite Father will hereafter reveal to his faithful children. These early visions are not dreams and fancies to be discarded and ridiculed in maturer years. They are types of eternal realities, fore-shadowing the soul's destiny.

Not only in youth do they come to us, but if we are not entirely neglectful, they often return in subsequent life. Yet how generally do men by continued worldliness and sin obstruct the soul's vision of the spiritual world. How generally do they by such a life lose sight of these spiritual revelations. They are unfaithful

to their light. They become absorbed in the cares and pursuits of the world, or devote themselves to mere intellectual culture. They seek the wisdom and sympathy of men, are dazzled by the light of science, and finally count everything superstition which their philosophy cannot explain. But even in this state they have occasional reminiscences of a higher life, occasional glimpses of a better world than the brightest intellectual light has ever revealed. For God, in his infinite mercy, never entirely forsakes those who, in forsaking him, are walking in darkness. Though they by negligence and sin often grieve away the holy Spirit, it often returns and waits to find access to their hearts.

There are times when the most worldly and thoughtless are tired of their worldly life. The senses and passions are exhausted and sink to repose. Then the soul's life returns, the spiritual world begins to dawn on us, and if we would on such occasions cherish the vision, it would grow brighter, it would be enlarged, would increase its power over us, till it should disperse our moral darkness, restore us to the path which we have forsaken, and so elevate our common life as to make it harmonize with our true life.

We have said, that God never utterly abandons his children. We cannot explain his connection with us, we cannot tell how he brings us into that state which we have described; but have we not felt this peculiar Divine influence in connection with it? Does not the Father of our spirits occasionally free the soul from its bondage to the flesh, draw aside the veil of error that hangs before it, roll away the clouds of sin that hover around it, so that it may never in this world entirely forget its divine origin and its immortal destiny? These are the occasions when its heavenly visions return. A pure and holy light dawns on it from that spiritual world to which it aspires as to its native home. Though we cannot here trace the Divine influence, we cannot doubt that it is employed for such a purpose. We cannot think it inconsistent with man's moral freedom and accountability, nor with any of the natural laws of his mind. Viewing God as our Father, we think it perfectly natural that he should give us this kind of aid. We could not reconcile it with his attributes, to leave such feeble, imperfect creatures as we are to struggle alone through such a world as this. No; his providence over us is both general and special. When