gether. The Old Testament prophets, and afterwards our Lord himself, had been the principal sowers in Samaria; the apostles and evangelists were to be the reapers in that abundant field; but both they who sowed and they who reaped would yet rejoice together. In like manner, in our own day, the humble colporteur or book-pedlar is often the first to awaken an interest in Divine truth in the Romish population of the towns and villages of France; and the evangelist following in his footsteps, explains to them the way of Christ more fully, and gathers the harvest which the colporteur had sown. Both rejoice now; both shall be eternally rewarded hereafter; and those benevolent Christians in Britain, who had contributed to their aid, and had followed them with their prayers, shall rejoice and be rewarded along with them. But we may not follow this inviting train of remark farther.

However important and propitious the present crisis in Continental affairs, it may yet, if unimproved, be short-lived. There are periods in the affairs of nations, as well as of individuals, regarding which it may be said that they are then "not far from the kingdom of God,"-tides in the affairs of souls which, taken at the full, lead on to heaven; but such periods may only return a second time after the lapse of a long cycle of ages. Let the Churches of Britain, then, awake to their duty, and seek, by their timely interest and action, to bless Europe with a second Reformation. Oh! thou Lord of the harvest, send forth labourers into the harvest.

SUPPRESS IT.

THAT feeling of pride and self-complacency. "I gave so much to such an object. I made a powerful exhortation. What a prayer I made! I preached so eloquently as to astonish myself. I conversed with this sinner, and prayed with that one, and wrote a letter to another, and they have all been converted." How easy it is to magnify I until he gets the place of the Lord! If you wish to give glory to God, you will do well to keep self out of sight. Those are not really the most useful nor the most holy persons, who are so in their own esteem. The Lord does not delight in those who seek to rob him of his glory, nor dwell in the heart of the proud. "But to this man will I look, even to him that is poor and of a contrite spirit, and trembleth at my word." When you have come to consider yourself very necessary to the Lord's work, you, probably, will be laid aside.

Suppress that feeling of jealousy. You think yourself slighted. Others, you think, have more honour than you, when you are more deserving than they. Perhaps you think right-probably, however, your pride bas over-estimated self, and underrated others. If it is true that you are not appreciated, and others are exalted to your prejudice, be not disturbed by it. It is a very small thing that you "should be judged of men's judgment." These little inequalities of the earth will soon be all made level. Whatever conduces to our humiliation cannot hurt us. The dangers of injury lie in the opposite direction. If you cherish jealousies and envyings, you can make yourself very uncomfortable, and do great injustice to others. If, through rich grace, you are enabled so to live as to deserve better than you receive at the hands of men, be thankful and satisfied.

Suppress that inclination to indolence or ease. It is unbecoming and unchristian. You have no time to waste-no talents which you have a right to hide in the earth. The glory of God, the salvation of men, and your own salvation, require of you to "live by the moment." Your whole life is made up of seconds. What right have you to waste one more

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than another, or a few and not the whole? "In the morning sow thy seed, and in the evening withhold not thine hand for thou knowest not whether shall prosper, either this or that, or whether they both shall be alike good." You know not which moment's work may be most blest.

Suppress that unbelief. You have no greater foe to your usefulness, nor to your spiritual prosperity, than that. It is Satan's sublimated poison. By indulging it you forswear your covenant vows, and reject the truth and grace of the Saviour. He requires you to pray-to admonish an erring brother-to warn and entreat a sinner-to labour for the suppression of iniquity and for the enlargement of his kingdom. You say, "It will do no good; my influence is nothing." The Lord calls on you to rejoice in him; but you go with your head bowed down, and in melancholy that is kindred to despair. You will not believe what the Lord hath said. Alas! how many wounds does the Saviour receive from the unbelief that is cherished by his professed friends. As if all his promises were nothing. As if he had no care over those who have made him their trust. As if he could not give them strength to do his will. O Christian! when will you learn that what you are not that is good and desirable, Christ is? That what you have not, either of graces, or of talents and efficiency for his service, he is able to impart? Do not live as if you were friendless an outcast. Do not perish with hunger, nor be clothed with rags, when in your Father's house there is bread enough and to spare, and when the spotless robes of a Saviour's righteousness are offered to you. Why will you thirst, and faint, and die, when a well of water "springing up into everlasting life' is right before you, and the Lord of life invites you "Be no more to drink and thirst no more for ever. faithless, but believing."-N. Y. Evangelist.

CHERISH IT.

THAT thought of your unprofitableness in the service of your Lord. Do not dismiss the thought as soon as it enters your mind, because it makes you unhappy. It is best that we should be unhappy where we are wrong. If you will call to remembrance your neglects and omissions of duty, misimproved privileges and opportunities for usefulness, the waste of time, talents, and possessions; you may have what you need, and what is most sweet and salutary-the tear of repentance. Your heart may be refreshed by the Saviour's grace, and you may be strengthened to serve and honour him as you have never yet done. You may, as yet, have done little in comparison with what you might have done for Christ's cause. Will you now "redeem the time?"

Cherish that thought of speaking a kind word to a fellow-man who is ready to perish. It is such a thought as the Spirit puts into the hearts of believers. If you let it pass away, the fellow-sinner may go on unadinonished and be lost for ever. Stop not to parley with indolence, or unbelief, or procrastination; but keep the thought in your mind until it matures into a purpose, and when the purpose is formed, go at once and execute it. Many thoughts of doing such good arise in the hearts of Christians; but alas! how few of them are cherished until the good work is done. I fear that many are so well satisfied with themselves for having resolved to do good, or having thought of it, that they rest there, and in reality accomplish no more than if the suggestion for good had never entered their minds. Were a thousandth part of the beneficence accomplished of which Christians think, and which (with the divine blessing) they might accomplish, who can tell with what accelerated impulse the great work of the world's salvation would move forward?

Cherish the spirit of prayer. At times you have unusual freedom in prayer. Your heart is drawn out. You seem to be permitted to come very near to God. Your desires are warm, and they flow out in love and submission. Your faith is unusually strong, and you scarcely know how to cease from prayer. Well, you need not cease. The injunction is, "Pray without ceasing." You cannot be the whole time in the closet or prayer room: but you can, while at your daily labour-while engaged in conversation, or in whatever duty engaged, be continually lifting up your heart to God. His ear will hear the desire, "unuttered or expressed." If you have lost the spirit of prayer, seek it immediately. If you have it, cherish it as far more precious than gold or precious stones.

When in some sad and sunless hour,
We pine for smiles and tones of love,
They bid us look, through storm and shower,
To thee-our Light and Life—above.

THE CHRISTIAN A LIGHT. OUR Lord said to his disciples, "Ye are the light of the world." Was this a mere rhetorical figure, or was it a sober and practical estimate of the Christian's influence and responsibility? The Christian is commanded to let his light shine before men, that others beholding it may be led to glorify his heavenly Father. This is required of every Christian; for every true Christian has light, and is himself a light. He walks in light; he lives near to the great Fountain of Light; and his light shines of course as long as he feeds the flame of piety in his own soul. This

Cherish love to the Saviour, and confidence in him. Cherish them by sitting at his feet to learn, and by diligence in doing his will. By constant looking to him for strength, and for every grace. By committing your soul to his keeping from day to day. Do not think that Christian graces can grow without cultivation. Neglect them, and the sun will scorch them-thorns will spring up and choke them, or the birds of the air will devour them. Cherish them, and when the showers of grace, and the light and heat of the "Sun of righteousness descends, they will bring forth fruit to the Saviour's praise."-Ibid.

THE LETTER FROM HOME.

BY REV. JAMES GILBOURNE LYONS.

A YOUTHFUL stranger walk'd alone
In a great city's busiest place;
He heard not one familiar tone,
He saw not one familiar face;

He trod that long and weary street
Till day's last beam wax'd faint and dim,
But none were near to cheer or greet-

Not one was there to smile on him.

He saw before him thickly press

The rude, the beautiful, the proud, And felt that strange, deep loneliness,

Which chills us in the selfish crowd:
Ay! though his heart was stern and strong,
And scorn'd each soft and wailing mood,
He felt a sore and sadd'ning throng

Of doubts and wasting cares intrude.
While yet he mused in bitter thought
A messenger appear'd at hand,
Who to that mourning pilgrim brought
A letter from his own fair land.
Eager, as if it search'd a mine,

His eye that welcome page explored,
And as it read each glowing line,

Hope, gladness, life-were all restored. Yet mightier than the voice from home Which nerved that drooping exile's breast, Those words of thine, Redeemer, come To calm our fears and give us rest;

shining cannot be increased by mechanical contrivances; the lamp of devotion must be fed; it must be kept ever trimmed and burning; whatever would obscure or tarnish its lustre must be put away; and then the Christian's life will be a pure and heavenly light. How many eyes may be turned toward one such light; how many souls may be guided by it to truth and to heaven; or how many may perish if it burns dimly or is extinguished!

We remember to have read a traveller's conversation with the keeper of the lighthouse at Calais, in nearly the following words. The watchman was boasting of the brilliancy of his lantern, which can be seen ten leagues at sea, when the visitor said to him: "What if one of the lights should chance to go out?'

"Never! impossible!' he cried, with a sort of consternation at the bare hypothesis. 'Sir,' said he, pointing to the ocean, 'yonder, where nothing can be seen, there are ships going by to every part of the world. If to-night one of my burners were out, within six months would come a letter-perhaps from India, perhaps from America, perhaps from some place I never heard of—saying, at such a night, at such an hour, the light of Calais burned dim. The watchman neglected his post, and vessels were in danger. Ah, sir, sometimes in the dark nights, in the stormy weather, I look out to sea, and feel as if the eye of the whole world were looking at my light! Go out! burn dim! Oh, never!'

"With how much dignity can enthusiasm invest the meanest occupations; and how constantly the human heart rises superior to its circumstances! What more monstrous drudgery can be conceived than this poor fellow's existence-pent in a narrow tower, burnishing his mirrors by day, trimming his lamps by night! And yet as he stands, with excited imagination, in the midnight conflict of the elements; feeling the eyes of the world upon him; holding himself responsible to all nations-his function almost rises into the sublime, dilating to moral grandeur by the force of his own conceptions."

But it is no romance which makes the Christian a light for the world, with the eyes of the whole world upon him. This he is, by express appointment of his

whole frame was convulsed with her efforts at respiration, "Oh! mother do not cry; perhaps you think that I suffer more than I do."

HINT ON SPIRITUAL PRIDE. IF the Lord hath beautified us with many graces and gifts above others, we must not exalt ourselves above others; we must look upon ourselves, as considered in ourselves, to be the same men still. Can the wall say it hath brought forth the beams that the sun hath cast upon it? So if God hath shined upon thee, and left others in darkness, art thou the better of thyself? Shall the pen boast itself because it hath written a fair epistle? Who made it? who put ink into it? who guided it? The glory belongs not to the pen, but to the writer. What though God hath used thee, and not others, in some great work?-the praise is his, not thine: we praise not the trumpet, but him that sounds it. Paul was a better trumpet than ten thousand others, and yet he said, “I am nothing." The smoke, a dusky and obscure vapour, climbs up into the light, rising above the pure air around it. Many exalt themselves above their brethren for gifts and outward things, which are but the trappings, and make not the difference between man and man; as if a man were the taller because he stands on a hill, or a man had a better body because he had a better suit on-he is the same man still. We are not to be proud even of our graces, much less of outward things.-Preston.

BE NOT WEARY.

WHEN Mr Whitefield was last in America, he one day dined, with Mr Tennent and other ministers, at a gentleman's house. After dinner, Mr Whitefield adverted to the difficulties attending the gospel ministry; lamented that all their zeal availed but little; said that he was weary with the burdens of the day; declared his great consolation that in a short time his work would be done, when he should depart and be with Christ: he then appealed to the ministers if it was not their great comfort that they should go to rest. They generally assented except Mr Tennent, who sat next to Mr Whitefield in silence, and by his countenance discovered but little pleasure in the conversation. On which Mr Whitefield, tapping him on the knee, said, "Well, brother Tennent, you are the oldest man among us, do you not rejoice to think that your time is so near at hand, when you will be called home?" Mr Tennent bluntly answered, "I have no wish about it." Mr Whitefield pressed him again; Mr Tennent again answered, "No, sir, it is no pleasure to me at all; and if you knew your duty, it would be none to you. I have nothing to do with death; my business is to live as long as I can-as well as I can-and serve my Master as faithfully as I can, until he shall think proper to call me home." Mr Whitefield still urged for an explicit answer to his question, in case the time of death were left to his own choice. Mr Tennent replied, "I have no choice about it; I am God's servant, and have engaged to do his business as long as he pleases to continue me therein. But now, brother, let me ask you a question. What do you think I would say, if I was to send my man into the field to plough; and if at noon I should go to the field, and

find him lounging under a tree, and complaining, Master, the sun is very hot, and the ploughing hard; I am weary of the work you have appointed me, and am overdone with the heat and burden of the day. Do, master, let me return home, and be discharged from this hard service? What would I say? why, that he was a lazy fellow, that it was his business to do the work that I had appointed him, until I should think fit to call him home."

HINTS TO MINISTERS.

A SERMON should be made for a text, and not a text found for a sermon.-Burnett.

In preaching, study not to draw applauses, but groans, from the hearers.-Jacomb.

We want nothing but the return of apostolical simplicity, self-denial, and love, to bring a pentecostal effusion of the Spirit upon our ministrations.— Bridges.

Steep your sermons in your hearts before yon preach them.-Bishop Felton.

Choose rather to teach than to charm, to convert than to be admired, to fcrce tears than applause. Give up every thing to secure the salvation of your hearers.-Gilbert.

Brethren, if saving souls be your end, you will certainly intend it out of the pulpit as in it.-Baxter. The life of a pious clergyman is visible rhetoric.Hooker.

Satan would have me while away my life in inactivity, under pretences of modesty, diffidence, and humility, and he is never wanting to furnish me with excuses for delaying or shifting service.-T. Scott.

The Christian minister should endeavour to turn the eyes of every one of his hearers in upon himself. R. Hall.

Let your life be a commentary on your sermons.— Lamont.

The great secret of ruling a Church is to convince them that you love them, and say and do every thing for their good.-A. Fuller.

Am I more fit to serve and to enjoy God than I was last week ?-S. Pearce.

You must rather leave the ark to shake as it shall please God, than put unworthy hands to hold it up.

COLD STORMS IN SPRING. WHEN winter returned upon us some weeks ago, it remarked, "Such weather at this season is a with its snow and sleet and chilling winds, we heard salutary check upon vegetation. When there is a succession of warm days in early Spring, not only do plants come forward rapidly, but there is a tenderness in the stalk which renders them sensitive to late frosts, to which our climate is liable. Such a day as this checks their growth, but it hardens them; they become tempered to the climate, and reach maturity slowly but safely."

This fact illustrates God's method in the worlds of providence and grace. The sudden and rapid growth of prosperity is dangerous. It exposes us to feel more keenly hereafter some sudden blast of adversity. We need to be tempered and indurated by occasional disappointments and trials. "It is good for a man that he bear the yoke in his youth."

The exhilaration of the young convert may require the discipline of doubts and fears, that a calmer and firmer faith may thus be nurtured within him.

It is better that our young hopes should be damped and chilled, if thereby they shall be brought to a firmer consistency, than that they should grow luxuriantly, to be nipped and blighted erelong by the rude blast.