individuals, and when exclusiveness is practised by individuals it loses its dignity, and is seen in its true character,-its meanness and selfishness.

God is not exclusive; the words are used in all reverence. If He were, He would have dwelt in the ineffable blissfulness of his own Being, and neither angel nor man would ever have been created. But when the Heavens and the Earth were made, "the morning-stars sang together, and the sons of God shouted for joy,"—and since that hour one unceasing interchange of blessing and of praise has been continued between the Creator and the creatures of His hand. O, "Praise ye the Lord from the Heavens,-praise Him in the heights,praise ye Him all His angels,-praise ye Him all His hosts." Dragons and deeps, fire and hail, snow and vapour, mountains and hills, beasts and cattle, creeping things and flying fowl, all are to praise Him, because all are the works or the objects of His bounty.

But it is not so with us. Many things there are of which the whole value to us consists in the fact that they are possessions which none but ourselves can own. Let an object be rare, and it is sought after, for no other reason; let a pleasure be confined to a few, and instantly it becomes important to share it; and knowing this, when we wish to arouse envy or to excite admiration, we are apt to take the simplest and easiest method by becoming exclusive. We do so in trifling instances-in cases which would arouse shame if they were brought

before us in their exceeding pettiness. The loveliness of flowers is given by God to all, to the beggar as well as to the prince; but the pleasure of some in the beauty of a plant would be destroyed if they saw it in a cottager's window. We delight in books and pictures, but there are those who care for them only as treasures which the world is not allowed to look upon. Many of us even value our fellow-creatures by the extent to which they carry this pettiness. If a man shuts himself up in an exclusive circle he is courted and honoured; if he is free and accessible to all he is thought little of.

Probably few think there is much harm in this, it is so common, and it does not at all interfere with a person's being very affectionate to his peculiar friends, or even generally kindhearted in cases which do not touch upon his especial exclusiveness. And it is so entirely a feeling belonging to this world, that we look at it as something apart from Christian principle. We feel that it is our nature; possibly an infirmity, but not one which we are required to struggle against, any more than we are called upon to contend with some bodily weakness, or peculiarity of taste, which we believe will no longer be ours in a higher state of existence. Or we say, and very truly, that we cannot be friends with all the world; that the very laws of society would not permit us to throw everything we possess open to the enjoyment of all; that there must be different circles, and that

no one will in the end be happier for the endeavour to blend them. It is all so plausible, and every case which is brought forward may have so much in its favour, that it is dangerous to rest the merits of the question upon any one instance of exclusiveness. The question we have to put to ourselves is, whether it is our effort not to be exclusive; whether when we have an opening for giving pleasure, we consider not how few but how many we can enable to be partakers of it; whether it is our real wish that others should share that which we delight in? If we have the principle, the application will be easy enough; if we have it not, we may very readily find excuses to satisfy us now. Whether they will do so when we are called upon to answer before God for the use we have made of our every-day blessings as well as our highest advantages, is another and a very serious question.

But there is a thought which may perhaps touch us all. Once, upon this sinful earth, He dwelt who owned the glory of Heaven. Beauty of every kind, beyond all that the most exalted imagination can picture; music, sweet as the angel voices which lingered on the ear of Eve when she turned her steps from Paradise; society complete in its blessedness and perfect in its love; all were His, all awaiting Him when the conflict should be past and the victory gained. But one joy was wanting, and when the thoughts of the Saviour of the world were carried for a few moments, from the prospect of mortal agony to the

bliss prepared for Him beyond, His last prayer for the sinners whom He was about to redeem was, that they might be with Him and share His glory.

Which of us, with the remembrance of that prayer treasured in our hearts, could bear to shut up unnecessarily any,--even the smallest pleasure, -from the enjoyment of another.

THE REMEMBRANCE OF CHRIST.

ST. LUKE, xxii. 19, 20.

"And He took bread, and gave thanks, and brake it, and gave unto them, saying, This is My Body which is given for you: this do in remembrance of Me. Likewise also the cup after supper, saying, This cup is the new testament in My Blood, which is shed for you."

"THIS do in remembrance of Me." There are few words probably which come home to us more than these. In their most direct meaning, they attract persons who would not be able to acknowledge, who perhaps would even shrink from, the whole truth. It seems as though they must have kept up the feeling for the Sacrament in years past, when the mystery was well nigh overlooked. Certainly they are intensely human, appealing to the affections and sympathies which we all have, and all cherish. We might almost think that they were spoken in special condescension to the infirmity of the Apostles, and through them to ours. They come first, as though to seize upon the heart by means of its softer impulses, and so to prepare the way for the doctrine which follows: "This cup is the New Testament in My Blood which is shed for many." That declaration, when first announced, would have been