church is, that it was an early, fair, and important exhibition of the generous spirit of Christianity, and the kind of value, which our religion allows us to affix to our worldly possessions. We do not say that this generosity was perfectly unexampled in the world; but this we may say, it was the very spirit and essence of Christianity.

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The precepts and the spirit of Christianity are altogether generous, and hostile to the avarice of possessions. Not only does it forbid every species of injustice, but warns us against an ardent pursuit of these perishable goods. And from what considerations? Truly, because we cannot serve God and mammon," "and the cares of this world, and the deceitfulness of riches, enter in and choke the word," and no fruit is brought to perfection; because the solicitude of acquiring and preserving wealth is always attended with a thrall and torment which impair and corrupt the very satisfactions expected from its possession, and "sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof; because, in fine, those things, which nature demands, are few, easily acquired, and unexpensive, for "godliness, with contentment, is great gain; we brought nothing into this world, and, it is certain, we can carry nothing out." Such is the language of the gospel on the subject of the pursuit of wealth.

With respect to its possession and use, its language is also as perfectly temperate and rational. It does not send us to the sea, like some of the ancient philosophers, to throw our wealth into the waves; nor does it require us to hoard or to lavish the abundance with which we may be favored; but we are commanded to minister to the necessities of others; to give to him that asketh of us, and from him, who would borrow of us, not to turn away, - as it

becomes those who believe themselves not the lords of these possessions, but the stewards of Him who gives them all things richly to enjoy ; for, according to our religion, a well bestowed benefit is a treasure of hope, which thieves cannot plunder, nor misfortunes diminish, nor moth nor rust corrupt. In our acts of charity Christianity requires undissembled good-will. It teaches us that the hope of recompense or reputation corrupts our bounty; that its acceptableness with God is lost, when these interested motives mingle with the act. To encourage us to the most disinterested and generous kindness, it promises a special care of those who observe these laws of benevolence. It leaves to Christians none of those excuses, which we are ready to make, for neglect of duty; but, on the contrary, points to the ravens which are fed, and the lilies which are clothed, by a kind Providence that knoweth we have need of all these things.

Such is the language of our religion on the subject of wealth. And did not these primitive Christians understand their religion? Did they not show the power of it more effectually by their generosity and their mutual affection than the most solemn and reiterated professions could have done?

What remains, then, but to show ourselves worthy of this primitive community, this parent stock of Christians ? Let it not be suspected, that, after eighteen centuries, we understand less of the spirit of our religion than the poor Jews of Jerusalem; or that we have less confidence in our Christianity than the first converts. If the circumstances of our times do not require the same provision, by a common stock, for the poor, yet our religion demands the same

spirit, and our faith can be as well proved by the nature of our generosity, though it may not be so publicly exhibited.

If I were to enter into the reasons for munificence, I might suggest to the rich that many are now struggling with poverty and distress, who are more deserving of God's favors than themselves. I might ask, whether we can enjoy with any satisfaction that superabundance which we might easily spare for the relief of those who really need it. I might ask, whether our wealth has not already led us into luxury, sensuality, pride, and hard-heartedness; and whether we can better check this tendency, or better make amends for our past defects, than by consecrating a larger portion than ever to the relief of the poor. I might go still further, and ask, whether we are all entirely satisfied with the means, or the spirit, by which we have risen to our present affluence; and, if not, how shall we better repair these mistakes, or atone for our rapacity, than by distributing to the wants of God's poor children?

GOD OMNIPRESENT.

"THOU God seest me" is a doctrine strictly practical, a plain proposition, not to be obscured by explanation, or perverted by ingenuity. It is, also, a truth which we cannot be puzzled to apply. To the good man it is a truth pregnant with consolation. He, who can look up to God as a Father, and on whom God can look down as upon a son, rejoices that "his path and his lying down" are compassed with the infinite knowledge of his God. Hence all about him is open and serene. He seems to enjoy the perpetual company of Omniscience. To him solitude brings no weariness or terror; nor does the business of life so engross or dissipate his thoughts that he cannot recur instantly to the recollection of an omnipresent Being. To him every spot is consecrated ground; for God is there. In the darkness of the night his path is illumined by the presence of God. In the stillness of the evening he feels the all-surrounding influence of Divine power. When he mixes with the throng in the business of the world, an eye, which cannot be eluded, seems to pierce into his employments; a hand, which cannot be entangled, unravels all his motions, and lays open his progress. The integrity of such a man is sure and unimpeachable. You may build upon it as upon a rock of granite. His conversation is that of one talking upon oath; "his witness is in heaven, his record is on high."

Who can describe the consolation which is found in being able to appeal from the false and cruel judgments of men to the decisions of Him who knoweth all things; to fly from the peltings of calumny, and shelter one's self" in the secret place of the Most High;" to escape from the suspicions and treacheries of man, and lean upon the unfailing promises of God; to seek relief from the false opinions of those we love, by pouring out, at the feet of an impartial God, the secrets of the soul, crying, like Peter, “Lord, thou knowest all things, thou knowest that I love thee?" On the other hand, when the wicked attempt to flee from the observation of Omniscience, how vain is the attempt! Follow the guilty man in his restless wanderings. See him plunging into the crowd and bustle of the world, as if he thought he might be unobserved in the confusion; but in vain; an eye seems to follow him, and to mark him out from among the throng. He resolves to seek for rest by removing from the scenes of guilt and remorse. He takes "the wings of the morning," and flies to "the uttermost parts of the sea;" but he finds evidence that God was there before him. Is there no one of the innumerable worlds out of the reach of an offended God? The guilty wretch tries the experiment. He rushes, O God, out of this world, makes his bed in hell, awakes, and "behold, thou art there!

An indescribable interest is thrown over the doctrine of the omniscience and omnipresence of God, when considered in connexion with the judgment which is to follow. He, who now observes every determination we form, will be himself our Judge. Every moment is the testimony taking under the eye of Heaven, which is to acquit or condemn us hereafter. Nothing less than omniscience, perpetually