the hearts of others, He, the Heavenly Bridegroom, will give us even now such foretastes of joy, and will in the end pour into our souls such an influx of blessedness, that at every fresh draught of the rivers of His pleasures, we shall disparage all previous satisfactions in comparison of that which we are at present tasting, and shall say with the governor of the feast at Cana; "Thou hast kept the good wine until now."

CHAPTER XVI.

PEACE BY LIVING IN THE PRESENT RATHER THAN IN THE FUTURE.

"Le content with such things as ye have.”—HEB. Xiii. 5.

IN

N the last Chapter we considered one of the great distractions which hinder peace of mind, and therefore hinder Holiness, in the soul of man,--the distraction of a fond and mournful retrospect. We saw how such a retrospect deludes us,-what tricks the memory plays in making a pleasing and attractive picture of by-gone days, and how she throws over the past the softening tints of the imagination. In truth, the various scenes of our life resemble that to which they have been so often compared, the scenes of a theatre. In order that the effect of such scenes may be pleasing, they must be viewed from a distance. Approach them closely, and you see that they are coarsely painted on a large, rude scale, and that the perspective lines, which should carry the eye into the distance, run up into the air; but fall back a few yards, and place yourself in the

seats of the spectators, and the colouring loses all its coarseness, and the picture seems no more flat. So it is with our experiences of life. ""Tis distance lends enchantment to the view."

The distraction which we are now to consider is that which arises from living in the future,-from pressing forward in desire to some better, easier, more satisfying state than that in which we at present find ourselves.

This habit of mind is very early developed; and yet it does not lose its hold upon us, until we are past middle age, and the winter of life has settled down upon us. In youth the heart bounds up at the prospect of the future; for life has many pleasures to offer to the young, of which experience has not yet proved the hollowness. What boy has not longed to become a man, to be emancipated from the restraints of education, and to be his own master? What young man, not yet embarked in any regular pursuit, has not longed to enter upon his profession and to settle in life? And what man, plunged in life's business and turmoil, has not sighed for the period when his affairs will allow him to retire, and to enjoy rest at the close of his career?

But if this tendency to press forward to some better and more satisfactory future is always seen in human nature, whatever its circumstances, it is most especially seen in the present age, which, perhaps beyond any other, developes and foments it. The age is a most

restless one,―restless to a morbid and unnatural degree. The ease and speed with which we are able to travel, the ease and speed with which thought can be communicated from one part of the world to another, the wide spread of education, which is ever making the lower class tread upon the heels of the higher, the competition which arises from the fact of all pursuits and professions being overstocked, and which makes the whole of life a race, in which victory is to the swift and strong, and the slow and weak are pushed aside and trampled under foot,-all these circumstances create an atmosphere of high pressure and excitement, which, if we mix with men at all, it is impossible not to breathe. And the result of breathing it is, that we come to consider every stage in life only as a step to a farther stage; that each man says to himself (not avowedly, of course, but in the general tendency and bias of his mind), "I must rise in life. I must first and before all things else get on. I must push, and thrust, and jostle until my neighbour falls back, and I stand in advance of him. I do not recognize that I have any fixed place assigned to me by God's Providence, and to which more especially my natural capacities are adapted; but there is a variety of places, in all of which God may be served; and the motto for me is, 'The higher the better.' As for settling down in any one position, and saying, 'Here I limit all my desires and aspirations,' that cannot be until just the close of life."

But let us look at this tendency of mind for a moment in the light which is lent by Holy Scripture. "Having food and raiment," says the Apostle Paul, "let us be therewith content." And again more searchingly, because the reference is not to the supply of mere material wants, but to a general change of condition; "Let every man abide in the same calling wherein he was called. . . . . Brethren, let every man, wherein he is called, therein abide with God." And again in the passage which stands at the head of this Chapter; "Be content with such things as ye have ;" an inexact translation, however, not conveying a sense by any means so stringent as the original, which is, "Be content with the things that are present" (that is, not only with the amount of property which has fallen to your lot, but generally with your position,—its duties, its advantages, its dignity). Nor did St. Paul preach without practising; for in the Epistle to the Philippians he avers, "I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content;" and shortly afterwards this expression of contentment with his state at the time (although he was then in captivity) drops from his pen; "I have all, and abound; I am full." Nor is this great grace of a cheerful acquiescence in the present, whatever it may be, confined to the saints of the Christian Dispensation. Soothing to the heart's natural feverishness is that strain of the Psalmist; "The lines" (the measuring-lines, by which a certain portion of ground is marked out) "are fallen unto me in pleasant places;