quick, ardent, animated, volatile, religion, though it will act as a guide and restraint, will not destroy his natural character. The majority of young per→ sons will most probably be found to be in the latter class and therefore it is important for me to caution my young readers against the ungrounded expectations which they may be inclined to form, both as to the characters which they themselves shall be, and as to the happiness which they are about to find in religion.

Imagination is a wonderful faculty in man: but I have never seen its connection with religion, and its influence upon it, or, in other words, its spiritual uses and abuses, ably and fully examined. It is a subject worthy of some master hand. A few slight remarks are all that I venture to advance.

All men have the faculty of imagination, and know its power, to a certain extent; for it is a part of our constitution. Even those who laugh at it, and at those who, in their estimation, are victims of it, are very much under its power; perhaps as much as those whom they ridicule; but the two parties are, to speak so, amused with different sorts of pictures. Imagination is almost always at work in the human breast. Every one holds up to his own view either pictures of the past or of the future; those visions on which he delights or dreads to dwell, as the colours are bright or dark -the forms attractive or repulsive. The covetous man, the sensualist, the votary of ambition, the

admirer of gay amusement, the calculating man of the world-all have the creations of imagination in their bosoms in various hues and shapes. The hoary veteran puts before himself the scenes, objects, and persons with which he was familiar in early life, and speaks of them as if they were present to his eyes. The young person employs his imagination on to-morrow, and on future years, and creates for himself a splendid theatre from which evil and deformity are excluded; where every sound is music, every object beauty, and every hour enjoyment.

Here we see something of the wonderful nature of the soul of man. Confined to a spot, and existing in the present moment, it can recall the past, remount beyond the birth of time, or sink into future ages when the visible shall be no more. It is only limited in its action by the infinity of time and space. It is not confined in its agency to the realities of existence, but is capable of combining, devising, and colouring, according to its own will, so as to riot in scenes of charm and radiance, and to tremble amidst all that is dark and horrible. Such is "creative Fancy's wild magnificence."

"Of human nature ne'er too high

Are our ideas wrought;

Of human merit ne'er too low

Depressed the daring thought."

The Bible, it may be observed, addresses itself very much to this faculty. Its representations of

many things are through the medium of it, whether we look to some of its plain instructions, or to its disclosures of the final judgment and of eternal blessedness. It is a book abounding with images, not only in its poetical, but also in its didactic parts. But this is not my subject at present.

It is obvious now, that this faculty is, in a religious view, of great importance: for we may form by it the most fantastic scenes, and the most injurious; or we may deposit in the chambers of imagery those scenes or paintings both of characters and of prospects which will exercise upon us a most beneficial influence. All our faculties are given to us by our Creator for the best purposes; but they certainly may be most miserably perverted. As a solid, chaste, and well-regulated imagination is a spring of goodness and happiness, so an idle, vain, low, corrupt, and lawless imagination is a spring of evil and misery. Whether we regard, or not, the agency of the imagination in our temporal or spiritual concerns, that agency is most undoubtedly exerted, and that with effectual power. Hence the necessity of watching over this enchantress-faculty; so often fascinating and seducing, but so often delusive and detrimental.-But I am not writing a disquisition on mental philosophy. Let me, then, briefly notice a few of the fanciful expectations which young persons are apt to entertain.

In the first place, you may suppose that if

you

become truly pious you are to pass your days in the conscious enjoyment of abundant happiness; in the light of truth, in the energy of faith and love, in the unclouded prospects of hope, in the feelings of unmingled joy. You will bid farewell to darkness, suffering, and sorrow. Now it is true, that real piety implies the possession of light, life, and rectitude. Then you ask-How can the pious be unhappy? What is Heaven but light, life, and rectitude? So much as we have of these divine elements, so much we have of heaven. enjoy these, we shall have nothing to do with the world-we shall have a world of our own-we; shall have a paradise.

If we

The ways of wisdom are ways of pleasantness: for this idea you have the highest authority: but you have no warrant for supposing that you can find a paradise below. We may call the kingdom of grace a Goshen or an Eden; and such it is, when compared with the Egypt and the wilderness of this world. The world abounds with thorns and weeds and beasts of prey: that is, you will always find here trials and enemies of various kinds. If you be true believers in Christ, you will have peace in Him: but as to the world, you will have in it tribulation. Human life is the suffering, enduring and acting time; the time of discipline and warfare.

In short, because you enjoy, as true Christians, various and inestimable blessings, it does not follow that you should enjoy them in a perfect

But after you have advanced in religion, whạt will your language be? "O my dark and foolish mind! O my hard and worldly heart! O my vain imaginations! O my erring, imperfect, unprofitable life!" I trust that you will advance in knowledge, holiness, and right conduct; that you will resist all sin, and cultivate all goodness: but inherent evil will remain: the leprous house must be levelled with the ground before it be thoroughly purified. How often will you find your souls distracted with many thoughts and cares! What pride, worldliness, deadness, impatience; what distance from God and spiritual things; will you often have to lament! When you feel, in future days, the truth of my statement, let this not lead you to say, that religion has done nothing for you, because it has not caused you to realize your own fancies. It may have done much for you-only take heed that it do far more.

Experience also will very probably subvert your fine dreams about doing good. You projected much but you will have great reason to be unfeignedly thankful, if but a little permanent good be produced by your labours. If you grow up sound and wise Christians, you will find religion to be a blessed reality, enabling you to think and act as those who desire to enjoy the favour and to do the will of God; though perhaps not a single dream of your youthful imagination will be ever realized.