to be clothed upon with bodies, which will be fashioned after a more glorious image. Here, we are placed in certain relations, as neighbors and citizens, rulers and subjects, from which spring appropriate duties. There,

we expect that many of these relations will be changed, and that the duties arising from them will no longer find a place. Here, we are tempted, and tried, and fall into sin. There, we hope to see the Saviour as he is, and to be transformed into some humble degree of resemblance to his pure and holy character. Where then, we ask,

How are the duties

is the harmony between the two? of the one to become the preparation for the other? How, for example, is a conscientious regard for truth and honesty in our business transactions, a careful endeavor to do to others as we would have others do unto us in all our social intercourse, a sacred regard to the limits of temperance in the indulgence of our appetites, and the exercise of an enlarged benevolence in our treatment of those less favored than ourselves, how is a conscientious discharge of these and other duties, which we readily perceive will make us good members of earthly society, to prepare us for the enjoyments of that world, where all is spiritual? This is the inquiry which these pages will attempt to answer. They are addressed to a particular stage of the religious course. They suppose the reader to have been awakened from indifference to the claims of religion, and to have determined, in view of his obligations to God and his own soul, to lead a religious life. They suppose this determination to have been formed in the exercise of sincere love to God and to Christ, and in humble reliance upon the assistance of the Spirit. They relate not to that change of affections VOL. XVIII. - NO. 210.

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and of purpose, experienced in becoming truly religious; they propose to answer a subsequent inquiry, to meet the Christian just as he is commencing his religious life, and earnestly asking in what manner he may so live, from day to day, amid the cares and trials and duties of earth, as best to fit himself for the joys of heaven. And this question these pages propose to answer, by pointing out the way, in which a conscientious discharge of the duties of earth, tends to bring the soul into those states and frames which fit it for the enjoyment of heavenly blessedness.

And first, it may be remarked, that it is possible to change the very character of the mind, to give it new tastes, and to develop powers before dormant and unknown, by definite exercises to which the attention may be directed, and which seem to have a distinct object ep arate from their influence upon the mind itself. Here, for example, is an individual, who has arrived at years of maturity, but whose early education has been much neglected, and whose mind is wholly undisciplined. He has no taste for study, no power even over his own mind to direct and confine his attention to any particular object. If he attempts to study, it seems to be almost in vain, for his mind is every moment flying from the subject. But he wishes to raise himself to eminence in a learned profession, a profession which will require close and longcontinued attention to study. He is fully aware that, in order to secure the eminence which he desires, he must acquire a love of study, together with the power of fixing and confining the attention, and of applying all the energies of the mind. He directs his attention, therefore, to some particular branch of study. It is at first extremely irksome, and he finds it almost impossible to con

fine his thoughts, and apply his mind. But he perseveres. He seeks earnestly to master the particular branch of study to which his attention is directed. The object which he seems to be pursuing, is an acquaintance with that particular branch of study. And this seems to be entirely separate from the influence of his efforts upon his own mind, in the formation of new tastes and the development of powers before dormant. He succeeds in making himself master of the study he is pursuing. But in doing this, he acquires a taste for study and a power of mental application, which he did not before possess. And now he is almost unconsciously drawn to study, whenever an opportunity offers, by the voluntary promptings of his own inclinations. He has acquired a habit of study, and a fondness for study. He may forget every principle of the particular branch he has been studying; but he retains, as a permanent possession, as a part of the very structure of his mind, and carries with him, wherever he goes, the fondness for study and the power of mental application, which he acquired, while pursuing that branch. Should he remove from accustomed scenes, and enter those of an entirely different character, he will carry with him this peculiar taste and power. And should the body be dissolved by death, the mind, we may suppose, would still retain and carry with it this fondness for study, this power of application. It will be perceived, then, that it is possible, in an intellectual point of view at least, by fixing the attention upon definite exercises, to change the apparent character of the mind itself, to awaken new tastes, and develop powers which were before dormant and unknown to exist.

A supposed case has been adduced. A fact may be

referred to in proof of the position which has been taken, and showing its truth in regard to the moral character. In an essay upon "Decision of Character," written by John Foster, is stated the following fact. A young man, to whom was left a large estate by his father, squandered in a few years, by a course of profligacy, his whole patrimony. When he had been stripped of all, he selected an eminence, which overlooked the patrimonial estate, and from thence he gazed upon the outstretching fields and the paternal mansion, the happy home of his childhood, once his own, now gone from his possession. And, in a moment of what might be almost called phrensy, he made a vow that he would be again the owner of the whole. He went forth in the spirit and strength of his resolution, availing himself of every means of accumulating, and diminishing, in every possible way, his expenditures. In this course he persevered, until he accomplished his object, and became again the owner of the whole. This fact is mentioned, by the writer, as illustrating the power of decision of character. But there is added to the account the lamentation,' that the character of the individual became entirely changed in the process, and that he remained to the day of his death a most miserable miser. In this instance, it will be perceived, that the attention of the individual was fixed upon definite labors, and exertions, which had reference to a particular and limited object. The individual had determined to regain his property. This was the limited, definite object upon which his affections were fixed. Courses of labor, and acts of self-denial were necessary to secure this object. To these his attention was directed. It was undoubtedly difficult, at

first, for the young man to restrain his long indulged propensities, to check his habit of squandering. But, by a persevering attention to the specific labors and self-denials necessary to secure the object of his wishes, he passed through a moral process, by which the very texture of his moral nature became changed. And now, a desire to accumulate and to save have become its habitual and voluntary states. There is no longer any necessity to awaken this desire of accumulating and saving. He does not experience want; he does not need to accumulate and save; but still he does so, simply from the new tastes which he has acquired. This fact goes to establish the position that it is possible to change the very character of the soul, its prevailing desires and governing affections, by attention to distinct and definite exercises, which have immediate reference to a limited object, separate from this influence upon the soul itself.

Having established this position, let us look at some of the prescribed duties of our religion. Our Saviour says, "I say unto you, love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you and persecute you." The duty enjoined in these words, is one of the most difficult required by our religion. It is one, the performance of which is in direct opposition to our natural impulses. The promptings of our own passions would lead us to resent rather than forgive an injury. And yet the exercise of this forgiveness is a duty, otherwise it would not have been commanded. Suppose that your neighbor has injured you, has defrauded you in a bargain, or slandered your character, or thrown obstacles in the way of your prosperity and success in your plans of business