How important is it to test our own hearts and minds in this matter. We may test them:-I. As to whether they are in the way of HEARING truth. Some of us live on and on, and wonder that we grow no better. We get older in years, but not wiser in that "wisdom which cometh from above." Nearer to Eternity, but not more meet for it. We trace no material change in ourselves; no growth in godliness; no greater degree of weanedness from the world; no advancing to a fuller stature of Christian excellence; and perhaps we are surprised at this, and inwardly murmur at it! But, come, and let us reason together; let us bring our hearts to the test! How diligent have we been in the way of hearing? Of the two-and-fifty Sabbaths of each passing year, how many have we given to the full and determined seeking after what "pertains to life and godliness?" Of the one hundred and four sermons which have been preached throughout those twoand-fifty Sabbaths, how many have we heard, how many have we attended to, how many have we followed? Or-and perhaps in this view our hearts will more condemn us-how many have we not heard? How many have we so little attended to that we have not carried them beyond the Church? How many have we gone directly counter to, leaving them to give witness against

us, that we have been hearers but not doers of the Word?

And if we are unfrequent hearers, or fitful hearers, or prejudiced hearers, or faithless hearers, shall we wonder that the Word preached does not profit us? If we keep from the way of grace and the means of grace, can we be surprised that we do not grow in grace? If we give but two scant hours to God of the four and twenty which he has commanded to be kept holy to Him, shall we marvel that we know so little of the mysteries, and feel so little of the influence of that Gospel, which when diligently heard is the power of God unto salvation? The past Sabbaths are now mingled with the past eternity. The sermons which have been preached, whether in our hearing or out of our hearing, have ceased to sound. The last echo of them which lingered vibrating for a little period in our remembrance, may be, is hushed. But those Sabbaths are to be called up again; the account of the Gospel, which has been preached within our opportunity of hearing it, has to be given in; and the eternity to come-with its bliss on the one hand, or its despair unutterable on the other, very mainly hinges upon how, and how punctually and steadfastly, we are receiving, and are influenced by, that message of reconciliation

that "word of God which liveth and abideth for ever."

II. We may test our hearts as to whether we are in the way of ATTENDING to the Truth. How solemn is the house of God! How holy is the place! Divest it of the external circumstances of the scene-behold it as God beholds it—and how holy is the place! It is the halting-place in life's pilgrimage. The resting time after each six days' wearying stage. The space of amnesty from toil and labour. The high ground-the Tabor summit where we see the Son of God transfigured, and surrounded with the emanations of his glory. A turning point in life's toilsome road, whence we may catch through some far-off glimpse, "the rest which remains," "the continuing city," "the house not made with hands," which are prepared for us at the journey's close. Behold it as God beholds it, and how awful is the place! The spirit of God moves there. The Saviour's presence, though unseen, hovering like the mysterious SHECHINAH, waits there. Angels, as messengers of mercy, or as recorders against those who are dissemblers with God-throng the scene. Life and death are at stake. Sins are forgiven or confirmed. The heart is moved and softened; or else grows more insensate in its indifference. Eternal life with all its

weight of glory is in the balance. The blood of the Son of God whereby we are sanctified, is by our neglect and unbelief trodden under foot; or by our faith and petitioning, we draw near to it as to "a fountain opened for sin and for uncleanness." A warning voice, though by the multitude unheard, rings around us there:-"To-day if ye will hear God's voice, harden not your hearts." The visitation-time, within which some careless sinner may yet learn the things which belong to his everlasting peace, may be just lingering to its close. To some the message of reconciliation may be sounded for the last time. To some the irrevocable doom may be about to be sealed for ever. "He that is unjust, let him be unjust still." How fraught then with all that is momentous and solemn is the house of God!

Now with reference to this scene of solemnity and the stupendous issues which are at work there, let the heart be tested; and let us receive evidence, if, like Lydia, we have attended to the things spoken there.

Recall we the Sabbaths of the year past. They come! They troop across remembrance! Memory is burdened with them! Each Sabbath was a faithful monitor, each brought a message from God to us. They come! but to how many do they wear a gloom

of sadness? To how many a heart do they appear like spirits which cannot rest, stealing in upon us, looking-if not uttering reproof. Those Sabbaths which are passed-how holy were they, when, at the early dawn of the first day of the week, they came forth from God, breathing of heaven and of peace! But how changed and disfigured were they, what a burden of condemnation did they carry up to God again, at the four-and-twenty hours' close. Their peaceful appearance ruffledtheir sacred rites neglected-their saint-white garments of holiness sullied-their hours so precious and so irrevocable, disjointed from their fitness to prepare us for our God, by folly and indolence, and lying piece-meal around, giving sad testimony of Sabbaths lost, and Sabbaths broken, and Sabbaths crying out against us in the ears of God. Those Sabbaths have gone, but their warnings linger still! How many have we heeded? In turn, all the great truths of the Gospel have been laid before us. God's love-the Saviour's incarnation-his life of suffering-the loveliness of His example-the purity of his doctrine-his agony and bloody sweat-his unutterable and soul-crushing anguish—as racked and strained-mocked and crowned-bleeding and fainting—he paid down his life, drop by drop, a ransom for our sins. These