our own happiness and peace.

Constituted as we are,

indeed, and placed in certain relations to objects of sense, and to other sentient beings, we are, in some degree, under the influence of external things. But the powers which wield the destiny of our happiness are chiefly within. It is there that we trace the elements of those noble faculties, which, if duly cultivated, secure at once our usefulness and our happiness;— and it is there that we find the germs of those vulture passions, whose dominion is worse than eastern bondage, and under whose relentless tyranny, a man who is master of the world may be himself a slave. In the conquest of these, consists the highest dignity of our nature,—and in the control and subjugation of them is our only solid peace.

Among the phenomena presented by human character, none will strike you as more remarkable than the various objects which men propose to themselves in life. In all, a certain vision of happiness seems to float over the scene;-but how various are the courses by which the phantom is pursued, and how many enter upon the pursuit without proposing to themselves any definite course at all. They never seem distinctly to put to themselves the question, in what the imagined enjoyment consists, and what are the elements by which it is constituted. One expects to

find it in wealth,-another in power,-a third in rank,—a fourth in fame,-while not a few are found to seek it in a mere round of excitement, perishing with the hour which gave it birth. Thus a large proportion of mankind pass through life, pursuing an imagined good which too often eludes their grasp,— or which, even after it has been attained, is found incapable of giving satisfaction. They live upon the opinions of other men, and are thus left at the mercy of a thousand external circumstances, by which the good they had so long pursued is blasted in the enjoyment. They enter upon life without forming any definite conception of what the great business of life ought to be; and, when they perceive that it is drawing to a close,. they look back with astonishment to find that it has passed over them like a dream,— that they cannot say for what purpose they have lived, or perhaps are compelled to acknowledge that they have lived in vain.

But life presents another aspect, when we view it as a scene of moral discipline;-when we look not at its pains and its pleasures, but its high duties and its solemn responsibilities,—and at the discipline of the heart, from which springs a true and solid happiness which external circumstances cannot destroy. All, then, is defined and clear. The object is definite, and the way to it is marked as by a light from heaven.

Each step that is gained is felt to be a real and solid acquirement; and each imparts a sense of moral health, which strengthens every principle within, for farther progress. I know that I carry your best feelings along with me, when I thus call your attention to that course of life, which alone is adapted to its real and solemn importance, which alone is worthy of those powers of our intellectual and moral nature, with which we have been endowed by Him who formed us. In the culture of these is involved not only a duty and a responsibility, but a source of the purest and the most refined enjoyment. For there is a power which is calculated to carry a man through life, without being the sport and the victim of every change that flits across the scene;-this power resides in a sound moral discipline, and a well-regulated mind.

The foundation of all mental discipline, in the words of an eminent writer,* consists in the "power of mastering the mind." It is in having the intellectual processes under due regulation and control,-and being thus able to direct them, upon sound and steady principles, to the acquisition of useful knowledge, and the discovery of truth. Here we are, in the first place, reminded of that remarkable power which we possess over the succession of our thoughts. We can direct the

* M. Degerando.

thoughts to any subject we please, and can keep them directed to it with steady and continuous attention. In the due culture of this power consists a point in mental discipline, of primary and essential importance. By the neglect of such culture, the mind is allowed to run to waste amid the trifles of the passing hour, or is left the sport of waking dreams and vain delusions, entirely unworthy of its high destiny. There is not a greater source of difference between one man and another, than in the manner in which they exercise this power over the succession of the thoughts, and in the subjects to which these are habitually directed. It is a mental exercise which lies at the foundation of the whole moral condition. He who, in early life, seriously enters upon it, under a sense of its supreme importance; who trains himself to habits of close and connected thinking,—and exerts a strict control over the subjects to which his thoughts are habitually directed, -leading them to such as are really worthy of his regard, and banishing all such as are of a frivolous, impure, or degrading character,—this is he who is pursuing the highest of all earthly acquirements, the culture of the understanding, and the discipline of the heart. This due regulation, and stern control of the processes of the mind, is, indeed, the foundation of all that is high and excellent in the formation of character. He who does not earnestly exercise it,-but who allows his mind

to wander, as it may be led by its own incidental images or casual associations, or by the influence of external things to which he is continually exposed, endangers his highest interests both as an intellectual and a moral being. Keep thy heart with all diligence," says the sacred writer, "for out of it are the issues of life."

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Now, it cannot be too anxiously borne in mind, that this great attainment is, in a remarkable degree, under the influence of habit. Each step that we take in the prosecution of it will facilitate our farther progress, and, every day that passes over us, without making it the object of earnest attention, the acquirement becomes the more difficult and the more uncertain; and a period at length arrives, when no power exists in the mind capable of correcting the disorder which habit has fixed in the mental economy. The frivolous mind may then continue frivolous to the last, amusing itself with trifles, or creating for itself fictions of the fancy, no better than dreams, and as unprofitable: The distorted mind may continue to the last eagerly pursuing some favourite dogma, while it is departing farther and farther from truth: And the vitiated and corrupted mind may continue to the last the slave of its impure and degrading passions. Such is the power, and such the result of mental habits;— and let us ever bear in mind how such habits are