without money and without price; they cheer the lowly bed of the cottager as well as the couch of the opulent; they visit the prisoner in his lonely cell, as well as the prince in his palace; but, notwithstanding the freeness of this gift, it is a gift that gold cannot purchase, and not many of the noble and the great are made sharers in its blessings.

The royal palaces lead the mind to meditate on all that is great and splendid in this world. Here England's kings have reigned and displayed all the gaudy trappings of human vanity. The diadem has been fascinating to the sons of men; it has blinded them to every sense of moral feeling, that they might encircle their brows with its gems. Low must that mind be who could cast aside moral worth to possess a bauble! despicable that man who shrinks from integrity to usurp power! And that there have been such, the history of England broadly declares. Men who waded through seas of blood to be seated on a throne, disregarding every moral principle, provided they gained their only aim-power and wealth. Ah! what are all the joys of earth, that no sooner blossom than they vanish away? What the enjoyment of splendour, that cloys with possession when obtained at the price of the soul? Gaudy are the triumphs of the great, dissipating the pursuits of pleasure, and demoralizing the habits of the courtier. The votaries

of fashion are more to be pitied than envied; their time is lost in the whirl of dissipation. How many even now are slumbering on their downy pillows, weakened by excess of riot, relaxed by indolence, and ruined by play, willing slaves to vice! Unlike the man who is governed by the principles of the gospel, who thinks for himself without the fear of the world's ridicule, and acts, disregarding alike her frowns or favours! He boldly raises his head in action, as if none on earth were greater than himself, yet with that simplicity as if he were the meanest of mankind. The applause of men he courts not,-sufficient to him is the approbation of God.

Amid the dense cloud of smoke, the venerable pile of Westminster Abbey towers majestically above the surrounding buildings. It is a memento of the end of all this fair universe. There the noble dead are laid, kings, warriors, statesmen, and poets, men who in their day have made themselves renowned; and is this all the distinction they now enjoy, to moulder in state, with only a frail memorial to tell what they were, when they were born, and when they died? Is it for this the warrior bleeds? is it for this the statesman toils and the poet writes? to have their names enrolled amongst the illustrious dead. Fame is but a breath; its laurels have enwreathed the brows of many who shall be held in everlasting contempt by the heaven

ly host. Capricious is the praise of men, and foolish the wish that all should praise us. Man only praises that which is congenial to his own feelings, desires, and passions; to expect, therefore, universal praise, displays weakness of soul and ignorance of mankind. To enjoy eternal fame, it is necessary to inlist under the banner of Jesus, for his kingdom is an everlasting kingdom, and his dominion is from generation to generation. When the little exploits which have enrolled names amongst the great have sunk in night, and the sculptured marble, with the loftiest monumental piles of art, have crumbled to dust, the friends of Jesus will shine forth with the blaze of undecaying beauty, and with the complete enjoyment of never-ending felicity.

In the view to the south, the river Thames, winding through an extensive city, with all the plying oars of the watermen, and the lofty vessels from every quarter of the globe, which cover the surface of the water, lead the mind to contemplate the benefits arising from commerce, and the value of industry when turned to the welfare of society. Commerce civilizes nations, unites man to man by the ties of interest, explores foreign lands, and lays open to the scientific wide scenes of knowledge; by its combinations, the moral tone and feeling of England has been raised far above other nations; it has taught her sons the powerful effect of the

combination of interests, and fanned that generous feeling of attending to others woes. The uncertainty of its rewards makes the merchant feel for his brother fallen in the mercantile strife, lest what is the unfortunate's lot to-day may be his tomorrow. Such ought to be the sympathy of Christians; all are travelling the same road, all are called by the same name, and all expect to be heirs of that inheritance that fadeth not away; and if God hath declared," whoso toucheth Israel, it is as if they touched the apple of his eye," will his indignation not be poured out on those who refuse to give his children bread by the way? And those wealthy Christians who refuse sharing with their brethren here, may be visited with many calamities because of their want of brotherly love. How foolish and unwise are they! How easy is it for their Heavenly Father to make up to them what pittance they may give away in charity? and how easy is it to deprive them oftentimes of the amount they withhold from their poor brother? Their worldly-mindedness blinds them and weakens their faith; God delights more in mercy than in all other offerings. How little does all human grandeur appear when elevated above it! Did I not know London was the mart of commerce, the mistress of arts, the school of science, the dwelling of kings, and the resort of all nations, from its appearance here I would be led to suppose it a grave

for the living. I behold houses huddled together, apparently without order, and so close, that a great proportion of the streets are not visible, and covered with a cloud of smoke almost suffocating to those accustomed to purer air. Its inhabitants present to the eye all that is mean and great in the human character, from the poorest citizen to the wealthiest nobleman. Here is an influx from all nations, wearing their native garbs, and speaking their mo ther tongue. Here is the most refined wickedness, and the most exalted morality; the most hardened villany, and the most elevated goodness; the titled destroyer of females, with the most studied art to accomplish their ruin, with feeling charity provid ing an asylum as a refuge in despair! The citizens of London display to the world the economy of industry, their time is wholly devoted to business; but, alas! too often their persevering industry proves the grave of their souls; their time is so much occupied in providing nourishment for their decaying bodies (which all their activity and art cannot save from the tomb), that they have not time to think of futurity; they neglect the one thing needful.

The sons of other times are now vanished away, they sleep in the dust, unheeding the tread of the stranger, or the busy crowd of their sons. What avails them now the wealth or the honour they might have shared in their day? That they lived