of convictions, take their place, and do their work. He is consistent. Looking at the worldly, Dr. Watts observes :

“ Well may they love the creature so,

For they have ne'er & God." Looking at the Ritualists, we cannot wonder that they elaborate the ceremonial, for in reality it is all they have.

But what is natural in them is monstrous in those who profess to have the Holy Ghost as their prompter and their guide. Whatever charms ceremonies may possess, we have them not, or we have them of the paltriest kind and in the scantiest measure. At the very best we use them awkwardly, timidly, and without effect. Where Ritualists are giants, we are pigmies; and where they pronounce as oracles, we speak as children with bated breath and faltering accents. And well we may, for we have nothing to sustain us; rather, all our great principles embarrass us. The ends we profess to seek cannot be secured by such means. We at least know that the leviathan of sin will fling off these arrows as so many straws; that genuflexions and bordered robes will not frighten the great enemy from his citadel in the human heart. If, moreover, we have what we profess to have, as we shall not need, so we cannot seek, inferior help. The great doctrine of the Spirit's presence and working is so unutterably more mighty and glorious than all ceremonies, that we shall be self-convicted of absurdity if we attach importance to them. He who really feels as well as says, “ The Lord of hosts is with us,” will not timidly hasten down to Egypt for help. He who has really begun in the Spirit, will not eagerly rush to be made perfect in the flesh. He who has a Divine life in the Holy Ghost, will not change his lot with the automaton of forms.

IV. The Ritualist cannot be confuted. His profession allows you to apply po test. There is no tribunal at which you can arraign him. After all your arguments, and in spite of the evidence of your senses, he remains unvanquished. Take the two sacraments, the sphere of his glory and the instruments of his might, and in both he is invulnerable. In the mass, he takes a wafer, performs the required ceremonies, and pronounces the appointed words, and that wafer has become the body and blood, the humanity and divinity, of Christ. So far as the senses can perceive, and so far as chemistry can attest, it has undergone no change. To the sight, touch, taste, smell, it is just what it was. The priest admits this; yet he affirms that a miracle has been performed, that transubstantiation has taken place. It is the peculiar distinction of his gift to work this saving miracle without giving any sensible proof of it. It is not intended to be tested, but believed. His office and apostolical appointment secure this. So with baptism. He takes the infant, applies the water, pronounces the word. The great change is wrought. The child of sin and heir of wrath is regenerated, made a child of God and an heir of immortality. No visible effect indeed is produced. That child grows up exactly like those who have not been baptized. If in later life a change

ensues, it is from causes in no way visibly connected with this baptism. So far as fact can show, the ceremony was null and void. But no; the priest maintains that a real and fundamental change was produced. His official appointment demonstrates this. We may deride it as an idle ceremony, or we may denounce it as a bad pretence; but he is not thereby confuted. He is at least consistent with himself. His conduct and his principles are in harmony.

It is widely different with the inconsistent professor of a spiritual religion. The nature and source of a new life in man are distinctly arowed. It claims to be the manifestation of a Divine power—“ the washing of regeneration, and the renewing of the Holy Ghost,”-a quickening from the death of sin to the life of righteousness-a being born of God. This comprehends the implantation of new principles by participation in the Divine nature. It proposes to rule the mind by the new law of faith, to rule the heart by the new law of love, and to set up in the conscience the supremacy of the Divine will. And all this is real and of worth, because it rules the life. He who spoke falsehood learns to speak the truth, and he who blasphemed learns to pray and praise. The intemperate put on the garments of sobriety, and the unclean wash in the fountain of purity. The worldly lift their thoughts and hopes to heaven; the malignant learn to love; and he who was a terror and a snare becomes a herald of truth and a guide to gladness. This result was predicted as the distinctive work of the Holy Ghost, and it remains the unique and indispensable proof of His presence. This great work was wrought with Pentecostal power in primitive times. It has marked all periods of true Christian revival. In presence of this, scoffing is silenced and infidelity perplexed. Under its influence, many standing without have confessed, while all within have felt, without a doubt, that “ God is with us of a truth.”

We thus proclaim a test, and invite any man to apply it. We point to a tribunal, and all the world may arraign us before it. If we cannot bear that test, and are not honoured at that tribunal, we are undone. Our pretensions are disproved, and we are degraded from the high level on which we claim to stand, and made to take our place with the merest off-growths of materialism and sentiment. The mitre is smitten from our brow, we are stripped of our priestly robes, and dismissed from the altar and the holy place. We can offer no oblation, and find no acceptance, for we have not the anointing of the Holy One. Some will thoughtfully examine us, and, led by the infallible standard, pronounce sentence against us. Others, who cannot reason, but can feel, who are poor in logic, but rich in grace, will retire from us chilled, estranged, and unhappy; while sooner or later all will perceive the finger of decay tracing on our tottering walls that word of doom, Ichabod—the glory is departed. . The idea of spiritual worship and of a spiritual religion is a grand idea. The bare consciousness of it seems, in some measure, to ennoble us. God forbid that it should ever be degraded by inconsistency! It is the living and abiding answer to the question, “ Will God in very

deed dwell with man upon the earth ?” Let us grapple with this vast conception-among dying men the presence of Almighty grace—the condescending tenderness of an infinite compassion—the revealed perfection of intelligence, purity, and love : and all this the patrimony of man. To illuminate his thoughts with truth, to warm and sanctify his passions, and to be the impulse and law of all he does and says. All this in harmony with the Divine mind, for He maketh intercession for the saints, according to the will of God. All this for the honour of the Most High, that He may have here a true temple and a true worship, and that earth may resemble heaven as a border province of the sinless land. Yes, this is a grand idea, encompassing our loftiest privileges and yielding our intensest joy. We may well claim it, for it meets our deepest wants; but it is as solemn as it is blessed, as perilous as it is grand. To whomsoever much is given, of him much will be required. It is hard, very hard, to come up to this standard, but it is better to be condemned by the wise than to relish the applause of fools.

There is a great advantage, too, in holding the great principles of true religion. Even when those who hold them are wrong, this gives hope of repentance and recovery. He is in a sad case whose conduct is bad; but he is hopeless whose conscience and religion sanction his wickedness. When a professing community falls into corrupt and pernicious practices, there is room for alarm ; but when its creed sanctions those practices and exalts them into the rank of duties, then we must utterly despair. So long as the true doctrine of spiritual worship is held among us, there will be contradiction in the mind and reproach in the conscience when formalism intrudes. There will be a drag on the wheels of the ecclesiastical chariot in its downward rush, and in time its progress may be stopped. A return to nobler habits may be expected from better views. The mercy that at first indicated the right path, will accept and encourage the repentant footsteps that seek to retrace the way. If we live in the Spirit, let us also walk in the Spirit.

THE HINDU HOME.

BY MRS. ROBINSON, OF INTALLY.

THE Hindu gentleman's city man- | seasons of the year, to invite them sion has certain apartments ex- and their family to balls and suppers, pressly fitted up for the entertain. which he gives in the most costly ment of his European guests. It is style. The rooms set apart for this the height of his ambition to keep purpose are always gaudily furwell with the English, especially | nished and lavishly decorated. those who are employed in the ser- Floors of highly polished marble, vice of the Government; and on walls painted in wreaths and festoons this account he likes, at stated of flowers, massive glass chandeliers suspended from the ceiling, tables | with gold and jewellery flashing of the finest mahogany, surmounted about his person at every turn, has with marble slabs, sofas, and chairs this morning returned to the life covered with the richest damask, most natural to him. He is in a soft and luxurious, form the leading dingy room, lighted by a couple of features of the drawing-room. The grated windows, with a cold, unfurniture is, however, crowded to carpeted floor, bare walls stained gether, without any respect to taste with the traces of soiled fingers, and or assortment of colours. The owner a wooden bedstead, exhibiting a knows that things such as these, bolster that has become black with costing much money, are the right the mustard oil with which its owner things to get for such an apartment anoints his head. The owner himas he is seeking to furnish; but he self is perhaps at the moment lying knows nothing more. His wife on the bed his hookah by his side, never enters society, and is more and the tube in his mouth-enjoyignorant of the arrangements and ing the luxury of being shampooed use of these accompaniments of by some menial who is as slightly civilized life than he is; and, con | attired as himself. He will squat sequently, her taste is never con on the floor and eat his dish of rice sulted. And so, on some occasion and curry, feeding himself with his when he gives a grand entertainment | fingers, and throwing an occasional in honour of one of his gods, and fish-bone to a cat which sits close has invited to it some of the first up to his plate. The wives and European families of the city, his children of the family live in pretty splendid hall blazes with countless | much the same style as the master. lights; a band of music is engaged | | They squat and lie about on the to play to the dancing of English bare floor, and, having never exmen and women; a supper in the | perienced the luxury of a chair, do English style is provided, regardless not feel the need of this convenience. of expense; servants in livery are Cleanliness and tidiness are no conto be found everywhere ready to do siderations here, and the atmosphere the bidding of the guests; whilst of the inhabited apartments is close the master moves about receiving | and almost offensive. The people the congratulations of his friends, have no conception of home comor stands aside to watch the danc fort, or of the countless little things ing, or see his guests enjoy them- | that help to preserve one's selfBelves at the supper-table. He is respect. nothing more than an on-looker Turn now to a more familiar picthroughout the entertainment. He ture. In the shade of a mango has his own opinion of dancing, grove is a neat homestead. Within and it is not very flattering to the a hedged enclosure stand four huts, character of European fashionable built so as to form a square, leaving life; and his caste prevents his an open courtyard in the centre. partaking of food in company with The largest hut, which is sometimes people of another race. He is, there screened off into two and even three fore, only an on-looker; and is glad apartments, is the sleeping place of When the morning comes, and his the parents and younger members guests take their departure. This of the family. It has a straw18 one picture.

thatched roof surmounting four Now turn to another. The scene mud walls, a mud-plastered floor, 18 in the same house, but in the and a ceiling of common bamboo

moter apartments. The same work. The bedsteads, where the indu gentleman who last night family are rich enough to afford was attired in the most costly array, | this luxury, are wooden platforms,

ruit mimino pots vincare fixed | to their mouths with their fingers, mume hur Jesies iese shere the mother occasionally assisting TP Tren US mi morzhs some inexpert little one with a TUE ne mi mood. The mouthful. They drink their water Hur s t ripisiv vienn, the out of brass or earthen cups, as the ma Tasang Jenu netreti every case may be; and when the meal is

au r urmIII. vonden in 1 ended, mouths and fingers are care r 7l munT ces and other fully washed, and the children are TADES C

rss vessels once more dismissed to their play. ni innsny ens e re pro- The mother now sweeps the court

yard, and sits to her spinning wheel sou

s me urner and a or sewing. If, however, she has ne irum. 3 inte i 4 å other such employment on hand, she wil up 1 c ieserCh, Te sis probably run round to her neighi zentei nesiren no che vuil bours for a little gossip. It the

uni mis S G il sie furniture becomes time to commence cooking w e seen. sie cier houses her evening meal. She is disturbe irnr 2 sa

e been de- now and again by her children, wh sercezi zi r e. I get mot say rush in, angrily disputing with on TIN BIG em here

another, and often fighting togethel me ter ci sie is tall. and she settles these affrays siendier mal res en eve and dealing the rod freely on all sid sary FLEHa res exriy. and They soon disperse, and leave be RATE vased is te sad hands free to work. and siten e peso s hookah or The husband comes home and call to ucco-side. poes trsite his le for his dinner. “Mother, is the ti bours in tie teid In the means cooked?" he cries, and she hurri while his steeds oot the house, to bring it; and, having first gir and, having turned the desiren out | him some water to wash his feel to piay, begins the preparation of she lays the plate before him, & the morning mesl. Af sboat ten sits by to replenish it as occasid or eleven o'clock the father leaves may require. Then she sits dow his field to go to the nearest stream with her children to their meal. for a bath. He then goes home for | The evening is spent in the con his breakfast. His wife places & yard in smoking and talking to steaming dish of rice and curry neighbours. Perhaps a story before him, and when he has eaten, brought to her of some trivial she brings him his hookah and one usage her son has received at or two pawn leaves, enclosing a bit hands of a boy belonging to a neig of betel nut and a few other condi bouring family. She takes fire ments. Having enjoyed these luxu this, and, running off in search ries, he lies down for a nap.

the offender, pours out, in shr His wife now takes up a brass jar, tones, a volley of abuse on the bo and, regting it on her side, walks who dared to injure her son. T down to the river. She suffers the mother of the accused rushes out! jar to float upon the water while she her turn, and returns the abuse dips herself two or three times; | louder tones; and so they go on i then, wringing the water from her half an hour, till friends interfei clothes, she fills her jar and returns and drag away the parties. TH home. Calling her children to boys are then called up and pette gether, she site in company with and caressed by their mothers, an them round a large plate well filled perhaps comforted with a handfi with rice, which is placed on the l of sweetmeats. The family smol kitchen floor, They convey the food and talk together till night sets 1