nately called "tops" or "plants," slightly | covering them with soil. After this the labour is comparatively light, being only an occasional weeding.

But when man has thus done his work, how bountiful is the Divine care which carries on the course of vegetation! Perhaps in nothing is the rapidity of this course more seen, than in the cane, when favoured with rain in due season, while its precariousness is great; for if not blessed with the refreshing showers, the burning sun soon withers the tender blade, or stints the advancing plant. And though the rain of an English thunder storm will bear but little comparison to the showers of the West Indies, yet there those showers, with scarcely an exception, are gladly acceptable; and so beneficial is half a day's good pouring, that the planters congratulate each other on having had, as their common phrase is, "a season of rain."

And can we advert to the fact that sugar contributes in numberless ways to our every-day comforts, and not feel interested in the process of its manufacture and the cultivation of the plant of which it is the produce? How much, then, ought we to admire the wisdom, and gratefully adore the goodness, which have thus rendered the vegetable kingdom so subservient to our gratification! If man were disposed to exalt his own skilful contrivances, and take all credit to himself for the means by which he turns this wonderful plant so much to his own purposes, we might well ask him in all his arrogance, Who gave thee power for the exercise of anything like skill, and who -before any human skill could avail— invested the cane with all its remarkable properties, giving a simple cutting the incipient powers of vegetation, enriching the juice with the saccharine material, and rendering the compressed and exhausted stem so immediately convertible into fuel, and so conducive to the finishing part of the process? Oh! if we would, while we enjoy our most common comforts, think of the goodness which appointed, the wisdom which arranged, and the power which secures them, how should we prize and taste them all with a joy, till then unfelt!

God might in his goodness have provided largely for our absolute necessities, without conveying that provision in so many agreeable ways. He could have made ample arrangement for the good of our bodies without, at the same time, as

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amply blending our innocent gratifications with our necessary good. But he has, in the almost-playfulness, certainly in the perfectness, of His love, created an endless feast for our various senses, in his vegetable gifts alone! Why," as Old Humphrey says, every individual tree, bush, shrub, and plant, is enough of itself, ay, and more than enough, to impart a thrill of transport to him who feels that he has in nature's God a merciful Father and an almighty Friend. How with such mercies can we help magnifying the Lord? How, with such abundant gifts, can we do less than live to his glory? Alas! our insensibility_and ingratitude!” L.

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ASSURANCE.

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THERE are three kinds of assurance spoken of in the word of God; 1. The assurance of understanding," Col. ii. 2: which means a clear, comprehensive, heart establishing acquaintance with divine truth. 2. The 66 assurance of faith," Heb. x. 22: which signifies an entire persuasion of the truth of the gospel, 3. The "assurance of hope," Heb. vi. 11: which imports a confidence of personal interest in Christ. It is of the latter I treat in this address. They are all three intimately related to, and grow out of each other. In proportion as we fully know and are spiritually taught the doctrines of the gospel, we shall be fully assured of their truth, and have the surance of faith ;" and in exact proportion as we are fully assured of the divine person, mission, and work of Christ, we shall be fully assured of our personal interest in them: faith being based upon knowledge, and hope upon faith. The assurance of knowledge and faith have reference to the gospel in itself: the assurance of hope to the state of our heart in reference to the gospel. The assurance of faith is called for in a man's first profession of the gospel, in order to his being acknowledged as a Christian. The assurance of hope, again, is an enjoyment proposed to them that believe, and have already begun the Christian race, which they are called to follow after, and to give all diligence to obtain.

It does not appear to be necessary to this state of mind, that we should have such a persuasion as utterly and continually excludes every shade of doubt; and which is so absolutely perfect as to admit of no degrees, or increase; for that

is not the sense in which it seems to be understood by the sacred writers, but rather as importing a prevailing and satisfactory conclusion: a state in which the mind sees no reason to question its siucerity and safety. Nor is it necessary to this blessed condition that the person who enjoys it, should be able or disposed to use bold, strong, confident affirmations, such as, "I am as certain I am a child of God, as if a voice from heaven declared it; and as sure of arriving safely in glory at last as if I were already there.' Many a modest, humble believer, if the question were put to him, “Are you a child of God?" would, perhaps, under the influence of meekness and self-abasement, shrink from the positive "I am, I am sure I am," and content himself with saying, I hope and believe I am, having no serious reason to doubt it, for I am deeply convinced of my fallen, sinful | state; I renounce every ground of dependence, but the righteousness of Christ, and rest my hope of salvation on him. My faith has given me peace, and led me to love God. And conscious of this, I doubt not I have passed from death unto life.'' This latter is the language of scriptural assurance.

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Such a prevailing and satisfactory conclusion as to our state may be obtained. Had no injunction in reference to it been given in the Scripture, nor any declaration made concerning it, still it might have been fairly presumed, that a change so great as that of regeneration could not have taken place without being its own evidence, to him in whom it is wrought. The old and the new nature; the work and image of Satan, and of God, are not so alike, as not to be easily distinguished: but, in fact, we are commanded to give all diligence to obtain and preserve the full assurance of hope; and evidences are laid down by which we may ascertain whether we are the children of God or not. Every one of us may know this; the means of judging are within the reach of us all.

If, then, we may know it, we ought to know it. Assurance is in one sense our duty, as well as our privilege. If it is our duty to believe, it is our duty to hope, and if to hope at all, to hope even to assurance. Every man ought to know his spiritual condition. It is a matter of too great moment to be suffered to remain undecided. We ought not to be content to remain another hour in ignorance of our spiritual state.

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How is assurance to be obtained? This is a momentous question. May God preserve me from error in giving an answer to it. It is said by the apostle, "The Spirit itself beareth witness with our spirit, that we are the children of God," Rom. viii. 16. Now as it is witnessed, or testified, by the Spirit, that we are the children of God, we naturally ask, in what manner is this testimony borne? This must either be in the way of a direct revelation to our mind, or by enabling us, on a comparison of the Spirit's work in the heart, with the description of the Spirit's work in the word, to draw the conclusion that we are truly born again. Some believe that there is granted to each regenerated soul a direct witness, in the way of suggestion, or impression, of its spiritual birth. This, however, does not appear to me to be the meaning of the apostle. It does not accord with the context, which is obviously practical, and speaks of the influence of the Spirit as received for mortification of sin, and for the production of all the dispositions and habits of the Christian life, especially the spirit of adoption: it is unsupported by any other passage where assurance is spoken of: it would, if this were its meaning, come under the head of a revelation from God, and seem to require something else to authenticate it: it would open a door for mistake and self-deception: it has never been received by multitudes who have been sincerely and eminently pious; and it is unnecessary, because, without being supported by the inferential evidence, it is not to be trusted. It is much safer and more correct to consider the witness of the Spirit as purely inferential. The case stands thus. "The Holy Spirit speaks in the word. The same Spirit operates in the heart. There must be a correspondence between his testimony in the word, and his operation in the heart. The evidence lies in this correspondence. We take the divine word, as dictated by the Spirit, and containing a declaration of his mind::-we see there what he testifies :we see especially the description which he there gives of the faith and character of God's children-of the principles and dispositions, the affections and desires, the hopes and fears, and the peculiar walk and conversation by which they are distinguished. If our spirits in the court of conscience, and before the Father of our spirits, bear witness to a correspondence between this description, and what has been effected in us by the same Divine

Agent-then there is a concurrence of the testimonies: the testimony of God's Spirit and the testimony of our spirits agree the one witnesseth with the other. What the Spirit of God has wrought in us harmonises with what the Spirit of God testifies in the word: and in proportion as our spirits have the inward consciousness of this harmony, do we possess the witness of the Spirit to our being the children of God."*

This is in strict accordance with what is said in other places of Scripture. "These things," says the apostle John, "have I written unto you that believe on the name of the Son of God, that ye may know that ye have eternal life,” 1 John

v. 13.

We are to know that we have eternal life, by the evidence of what is written, and of course by the comparison of our heart and life with it.

In reply then to the question, how you may know that you are a child of God? I answer, by consciousness, and a comparison of your state with the word of God. The apostle says, "Ye are all the children of God by faith in Christ Jesus," Gal. iii. 26. "I am conscious," says an assured Christian, "that I do believe, and therefore I know I am a child of God." And suppose he were in any doubt about the reality of his faith, he pursues the subject, and says, "The word of God says, in whom believing we rejoice; I have peace and joy:—to them that believe he is precious; Christ is precious to me-faith worketh by love; I love God, Christ, his pecple, and holiness:this is the victory that overcometh the world, even our faith;' 'I have overcome the world:' -'we know that we have passed from death unto life, because we love the brethren;' I love the brethren-therefore I conclude I am a child of God. The fruits of my faith which I discern in my self, answer to the description of them given in the word.”

assurance of our title to heaven, is not to climb up to it by a ladder of our own ungrounded persuasions, but to dig as low as hell by humility and self-denial in our own hearts : and though this may seem the farthest way about, yet it is indeed the nearest and safest way to it. We must, as the Greek epigram speaks, ascend downwards, and descend upwards,' if we would indeed come to heaven, or get any true persuasion of our title to it. The most triumphant confidence of a Christian riseth safely and surely on this low toundation, that lies deeper under ground, and there stands firmly and stedfastly. When our heart is once turned into a conformity with the word of God, when we feel our will to concur with his will, we shall then personally perceive a spirit of adoption within ourselves, teaching us to say, Abba, Father. We shall not then care for peeping into the hidden records of eternity, to see whether our names be written there in golden characters: no, we shall find a copy of God's thoughts concerning us written in our own breasts. There we may read the characters of his favour towards us: there we may feel an inward sense of his love to us, flowing out of our hearty and unfeigned love to him. And we shall be more undoubtedly persuaded of it, than if one of those winged watchmen above, that are privy to heaven's secrets, should come and tell us, that they saw our names enrolled in those volumes of eternity."

In this way, and as it appears to me, in this way only, is our personal interest in the blessings of salvation to be ascertained. It will be evident then, that our assurance will be more or less full, according to the measure of our piety. It admits of degrees of certainty, and these will be regulated by our degrees of vital, experimental godliness. Hence the force of the apostolical exhortation, to give all diligence to make our calling and our election sure; i. e. sure to ourselves, as a clear and well attested fact, that we are called according to the purpose of God.

• Dr. Wardlaw on Assurance, p. 140.

ON STUDYING THE CONDUCT OF

CHILDREN.

THE man who is too proud to learn from children is unwise. It is said that the celebrated Berquin, so well known for his juvenile stories, was never so happy as when he was amongst children,

ing the workings of their young hearts, In this cheap and innocent amusement he had his attention repaid a hundredfold, to say nothing of the advantage of acquiring a habit of receiving pleasure from that which would have been an annoyance to many. By this practice he was enabled to throw much point and life into his interesting narratives.

While walking along a back street, the remembrance of Berquin's amusements suddenly struck me, as three children made their appearance, wheeling along a small hand-barrow filled with gravel. I determined to watch their progress intently, and to seek pleasure or instruction from their conduct. The children evidently enjoyed their occupation, and thought themselves engaged in an important work, having, no doubt, been sent by their parents to procure the gravel for some useful purpose. One little boy, the most honoured of the three, held the handles of the barrow, the two others acting as supporters and impellers to the slowly moving mass, grasping the sides of the barrow with their hands, and assisting the chief actor in urging it forwards. To them their pursuit was no trivial child's play. It was manlike and important. They were working like their fathers, and the gravity of their countenances showed their sense of the dignity of labour. Heavy was their task, but they put out their strength to the work, and proceeded with a perseverance equal to that of the tortoise in the fable. I slackened my pace, and sauntered by their side, until we approached a long entry.

Hitherto the young labourers had proceeded smoothly, though slowly, in their undertaking, but neither man nor child is secure from stratagem and treachery. Hidden mischief lurked within this unsuspected passage; for while these children slowly passed the entry's mouth with their barrow, a young urchin, about their own age, who had evidently been on the watch, rushed forth from the passage at his full speed, and made a plunge with both hands at the loaded barrow, overturning it in a moment, and lodging its contents on the pavement. Then, as quickly retracing his steps, he disappeared down the long passage from whence he had so suddenly issued.

The children stood still for a moment, surprised and confused by the attack; they remained, however, but an instant

down the passage in pursuit of their retreating foe, while one remained by the overturned barrow, as a guard against further mischief. The mischievous urchin, however, had the start of his pursuers, and the two children soon returned from an unsuccessful chase. All three then set to work righting and refilling the barrow, and were long busily occupied in scooping up the gravel with their little hands. This was, indeed, unlooked for labour, but in process of time it was completed, for they worked with ant-like energy, and left but little gravel on the pavement. Their temporary trial had been of service, and they were now more secure than before, for their discomfiture had sharpened their faculties, taught them the value of vigilance, and rendered them less liable to a second surprisal. All being ready for the march, they proceeded slowly onwards as before, steering homewards, no doubt hoping and expecting to receive the commendations of their parents.

I left them pondering on what I had seen, and came to the conclusion that Berquin's knowledge of human nature was extended by his love for the company of children. The Frenchman went to the root of things when he mixed among the young ones, and studied the growing qualities of little women and miniature men. G.

THE WOLF.

THE wolf is not, as might be supposed, untameably savage. It is susceptible of attachment to other animals and also to man. One at the Zoological Gardens would always come to the front bars of her den to be caressed as soon as any person she knew approached. She had pups too, and used to bring them in her mouth to be noticed, and, in fact, so eager was she that her little ones should share with her in the attention of her friends, that she killed all of them in succession as she brought them forwards to be fondled, by rubbing them against the bars of the ear.

DARKNESS IN DIVINE SUBJECTS.

WHAT We call darkness in Divine subjects is nothing else than their celestial glory and splendour striking on the weak ball of our eyes, the rays of which we are not in this life able to bear.-Dr. Owen.

GEORGE II.

THE intelligence of the death of George 1. reached England on June 14th, 1727. His son was proclaimed king of Great Britain on the day following. He had no brother. His only sister was queen of Prussia. George 11. had the advantage of being able to converse in English, and was better acquainted with the people than his father. His manners also were less gross. He was regular in his proceedings and habits of business; but he was a slave to avarice. Extravagance and careless profusion are great faults in a ruler, but the reverse is also injurious. The word of God speaks fully to the covetous: it was one of the evil qualities divinely cautioned against in the appointment of rulers among the Jews.

Although, like nearly all the potentates of that day, he lived in adultery, George II. treated his queen with respect; in fact, allowing her to guide the state,

for which she was, in some respects, better qualified than himself. In addition to general abilities of a high character, she possessed considerable learning, though it led her too far into metaphysical and abstruse studies. Her manners were amiable and correct, while the forbearance she evinced to the infidelity of her husband showed fortitude and discretion, and added much to her influence. One of her first proceedings was to induce the king to continue Walpole prime minister, instead of sir Spencer Compton, to whom the new monarch had designed to commit the affairs of the state, but who was so thoroughly unfit for the station, that he was obliged to ask Walpole's help, in preparing the usual address from a new monarch to the privy council. Walpole discerned that the king really loved as well as respected the queen more than his mistresses; by seeking her favour only, he preserved his post and his influence, while other courtiers, acting upon the experience of former

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