on which the holy and the wise, the saint and the philosopher, alike delight to dwell.
It is no exaggeration then to say, that the conversation of the humble Christian on her death-bed—her lowly bed of suffering, surrounded by poverty and destitution—is sometimes so fraught with the intelligence of that celestial world on which her hopes are fixed, that to have spent an hour in her presence, is like having had the glories of heaven, and the wonders of immortality, revealed. And is this a vulgar or degrading employment for a refined and intellectual being? to dwell upon the noblest theme which human intellect has ever grasped, to look onward from the perishable things of time to the full development of the eternal principles of truth and love? to forget the sufferings of frail humanity, and to live by faith amongst the ransomed spirits of the blest, in the presence of angels, and before the Saviour, ascribing honour, and glory, dominion, and power, to Him that sitteth on the throne, and to the Lamb forever and ever?
In turning back to the world, from the contemplation of such a state of mind, we feel that vulgarity consists neither in religion itself, nor in its requirements, but in attaching undue importance to the things of time, and in making them our chief, or only good.
If young people are often deterred from becoming religious by seeing a great number of genteel, correct, and agreeable persons, who, for anything they can discover to the contrary, are doing very well without it they are still more forcibly deterred by feeling no want of it within themselves.
Perhaps you are so protected by parents, and so hemmed in by domestic regulations, that you feel it more difficult to do what is positively wrong, than what is generally approved as right. But do not be so blind and presumptuous as to mistake this apparently inoffensive state, for being reli-
