it is well known, that the cold is less intense than on its surface. However severe the frost, the earth, when protected by a layer of snow, is but little affected, and never very greatly chilled. Hence plants live, wrapt in its fleecy mantle, which shelters them from a cold that would otherwise destroy them. Hence the earth is ready, almost as soon as the temperature of the air is changed, to receive the plough, and to undergo the preparation for the seed. Hence, too, we see the wis dom of the arrangement, by which the heaviest snows fall where winter brings the intensest cold,-an arrangement, of which the effect in retaining the earth's heat is so great, that even in those lands, where winter reigns eight or nine months in the year, the plants, on the breaking up of the storm, are found already growing beneath the snow. And thus plenty for the inhabitants is drawn from a soil, where, but for this provision, blank desolation would hold sway. How good then is God! How much of beneficence is there planning and presiding over all his arrangements! How much of kindness mingling even with those events, which are found to bring to individuals trouble or injury! When we take a survey of the whole, how patient may we be under the evil! "Shall we receive good at the hand of the Lord, and shall we not receive evil? asked Job, as if he had said, "Shall we take and enjoy the good of God's arrangements, and shall we not take and endure the evil that may be connected with them? How easily may God chasten us, or overthrow and destroy us!"The treasures of the snow.... which he has reserved against the day of trouble," furnish ample means for both. Had winter's snow come, in any depth, two months earlier, and been continued on the ground, it had made a famine in the land, with all its attendant misery, violence, and bloodshed,—a bitter chastisement to the land for its sins. But the same scourge might be employed to destroy. Let it be poured forth on the earth in summer, and left unmelted as in the cold of winter, and how very speedily would the whole population of the world perish by hunger, or by mutual destruction! It is easy for the Lord to overwhelm. Not" the stars, which fought in their courses against Sisera," are needed. The air we breathe may be so charged with particles of snow and ice, as to choke us, or may drop such a covering of it, as to render ineffectual all our labours on the earth, (from which it is our doom to win our bread by the sweat of our brow,) and so shut us up to death. What gratitude should we feel for the long-suffering mercy of God to wards us, who, with a thousand messengers at his command to bring suffering, or to inflict death, has borne with our many provocations, has not requited our sins, but continued to bestow on us the riches of his goodness, and to compass us about with numberless proofs of his kindness. Let us stand in awe, and sin not. Let us not abuse the patience of our God, lest he arise to visit our sins upon us, and to render recompence to them that forget him. OUR LORD'S ENTERTAINMENT AT THE [From the forthcoming volume, being the Second of "Eastern · Manners."] Concluded from p. 633. THE effusion of the contents of the alabaster-box was only a preliminary part of Mary's attention to Jesus; and in considering the dialogue that ensued between our Lord and Simon respecting the singularity of that woman's conduct, and the other circumstances connected | with her pathetic story, we cannot better introduce the explanation of them, than by a brief enumeration of the civilities commonly practised at their entertainments by the better classes of the Jews. On such occasions, no sooner was the arrival of the guests announced, than the master of the house, who was in readiness to receive them, went up to each, and gave him the kiss of salutation, the universal token of welcome and friendly regard; after which, he ordered an attendant to conduct his friends to an apartment, where they were relieved of their sandals, and provided with the grateful refreshment of water for the hands and the feet; and on their being ushered into the banquet-room, were again regaled, after a little time, with a profusion of sweetscented oils, sprinkled over the head and clothes, which, in consequence of the excessive heat of an Eastern climate, were felt to be a valuable accession to the comfort and enjoyment of a crowded party. These practices, which are of high antiquity, have descended to the present day; and we are enabled therefore, from the recorded testimony of those who have witnessed them, to form a tolerably correct idea of those little niceties of manner and decorum in social intercourse, to which allusion is made in the evangelical narrative. Buckingham mentions, that an Arabian widow, at whose house he lodged, received him with the greatest kindness, and "insisted on going through the ceremony of washing his feet herself." Jowett tells us, that at a supper to which he was invited by a Syrian of rank, the master of the house desired a servant to bring a large brass pan full of warm water," in which, for the first time," says he, "I experienced such attention. He illustrated the ancient custom of washing the feet of strangers, and no compliment could have been more agreeable." And Keppel, in his interesting Narrative, after stating that he had been received with the usual mark of attention to the feet of a traveller, says, that in half an hour after they had been seated at table, the attendants brought in rose-water and chafing-dishes, containing incense for perfuming the head and beard-a ceremony which was performed by every one present. The guests of the ancient Jew were entitled to look for these customary civilities being paid to them by the master of the feast. But Simon, although, in compliance with the ostentatious display that prevailed at that period, he had invited Jesus and his friends on the Sabbath evening, cherished no respect either for the character or the person of Christ. He seems rather to have regarded him in the light of a poor and houseless wanderer, to whom, as such, the tables of the rich were usually spread on the return of the week, but who had no claims to those respectful attentions which he would have readily bestowed on a guest of a superior order. Or if we suppose farther, with some commentators, that this Jew was the father of Judas Iscariot; actuated with the same secret malignity as his perfidious son; and sitting with the rest of his proud fraternity as spies upon Christ; he might studiously withhold from him the ordinary civilities of life, as a person whom, although he necessarily entertained, he yet deemed it unnecessary to treat with the courtesy that was due to those whom he reckoned more respectable visitors. It was this want of attention on the part of the landlord that Mary was anxious to supply. She saw and lamented the little respect that was shewn to Christ, who, in her estimation, was worthy of all honour, and, in the fulness of her heart, she cared not for the censures which her attention to him might call forth from the spectators. She stood indebted to him for obligations which she felt it was impossible for her ever to repay. By the timely exercise of his miraculous power, her affection had been recently gratified by the reanimation of a beloved brother; by his timely remonstrances and faithful instructions, she who had at one time been a gay and unprincipled votary of pleasure, bad been induced to choose that good part which would ne ver be taken from her; and, with a heart strongly impressed with a sense of her personal and family obligations to her Saviour and her friend, she could not sit calmly by while any deficiency of respect, or any intentional insult, was offered to a person so dear to her. She went forward to the place where Jesus was reclining, and, with every consideration lost in the ardour of her attachment to him, performed a service which was then ranked among the duties of a menial's office. Jesus was then reclining, as was the universal custom of the Jews of that age, when taking their meals, resting on his side with his head toward the table, so that his feet were accessible to any who came through the vacant spaces between the couches; and those would, according to Eastern fashion, be divested of their sandals and it is easy to imagine, therefore, how she could render to Jesus the grateful service of ablution without any inconvenience to the object of her respectful attentions. spread under the canopy of heaven, and was accessible to the same promiscuous visitors as are found hovering about at the entertainments of the most respectable Orientals of the present day. "In formerly perusing this affecting relation," says Forbes, "I have been surprised at the admission of such a woman into the mansion of the Pharisee; but when I noticed the open halls and gardens, in which the Oriental feasts are given, the variety of strangers admitted, and the familiarities which I have seen taken, and myself experienced, I cease to wonder at the familiarity used by the woman with the alabaster-box of ointment, which is not only common, but far from being deemed either disrespectful or displeasing. During my visit at Cambray, I usually wore a cornelian ring, containing my name cut in Persian characters, which I used as a seal to official papers. This being observed by the nabob's attendants, when I supped at his garden-house, they approached me with that sort of freedom I have just mentioned, not only to admire the ring, but to take it off my finger, and hand it round among each other, and to the servants of the vizier and noblemen present." Nor was it only in rendering the duties of an attendant that she manifested her love to Jesus. She far exceeded the civilities which the manners of the age and country required from the master of the house; for, The presence then of this woman at the entertainment instead of bending over the shoulder of Jesus to salute of Simon was no evidence of impertinent intrusion. It him on the cheek or the beard, which, though the uni- was perfectly in accordance with the customs of the versal form of salutation, appeared too presumptuous place, and it seems to have been noways offensive to an act for a woman so unworthy, to perform, she kiss- the landlord, although, no doubt, he must have been ed his feet, the greatest token which a native of the stung with the pointed, though tacit, reproof she gave East can give of affection for the person, or reverence him, which he, either too sullen or too crafty to betray for the rank of another. Thus Sir Robert Ker Por- his feelings in language, left it to the disciples to utter ter mentions an instance of a Persian, who having re- the thoughts which were boiling in his own bosom. It ceived from that gentleman some trinket, on which he was impossible but they, as well as Mary, must have had set an immoderate value, threw himself on the been sensible of the scanty attentions by which his hosground, and kissed the Englishman's feet, and uttered pitality was marked. But either from not possessing a profusion of thanks. Thus, too, we read of the Per- the same watchful jealousy of their Master's honour, or sians on a remarkable occasion kissing the feet of Cy- from a wish to turn away attention from the conduct of rus, their popular king, and of the Romans, who in Simon, by impugning the motives, and censuring the later times imported many of the customs of the East, liberality of Mary, as a case of blameable extravagance, kissing the feet of Otho, after his victory over his ri- "they had indignation, saying, To what purpose is this val, and calling him the only emperor. By kissing the waste? for this ointment might have been sold for feet of Jesus, then, this woman demonstrated to the much, and given to the poor." It is of no consequence whole company the profound sense she entertained of to our illustration to inquire by which of the disciples his dignified character, and she heightened the effect of this observation was made, and whether it was a mere this pious action by wiping his feet-moistened by a affectation of benevolence; it is noticed here solely beflood of tears with her hair. Towels could easily cause it contains a hint that the box of ointment which have been procured, had she needed them, or chosen to Mary broke over the head and feet of Christ was of employ them; and the extraordinary substitute she great value. They were generally made of a very small adopted, shews more, perhaps, than any other cir- size; but from various passages of ancient classic aucumstance in the story, her willingness to devote her thors, it appears that some of these boxes were of conall to Christ. Hair has ever been, in the East, a prin- siderable capacity; and the quantity which one of them cipal part of attention in female decoration, being worn might contain is (John xii. 3,) estimated "to be a by all classes (1 Peter iii. 3,) to an immense length, pound weight of those times, or somewhat more than sometimes, when loose, even reaching the ground, twelve ounces of our avoirdupois weight;" and the adorned with the costliest gems, or filings of gold, or value of which, at the rate in which these articles are garlands, and when these were wanting, elaborately sold in Eastern countries now, is computed to be upplaited into a variety of fantastic and elegant forms; wards of nine pounds sterling. The most generous and we may appreciate, therefore, the ardour of Mary's and liberal disposition could never be supposed capable feelings on this occasion, when she scrupled not to em- of prompting any person to sprinkle such a costly quanploy her luxuriant tresses her own and her country-tity of perfume on a single guest; and hence it was, women's pride-in this office of respect to the Saviour. The presence of this woman, perhaps unknown and unbidden, among the guests whom a Jew of rank was entertaining in his own house, and the liberties she allowed herself, seemingly without the fear of being challenged, to take in the very presence of the landlord, are not among the least difficulties of this story. But the difficulty arises solely from the mind of the reader associating with this banquet in ancient Judea, the character of a select and secluded party, as obtains among us; whereas, as feasts are frequently given throughout all parts of the East, in the open air, on the green sward, or in the outer courts of houses, furnished with carpets and seats for the purpose; and as there is free admission at such times to every stranger who comes, it is probable that Simon's table was, in like manner, that as the prodigality of Mary had become the subject of anxious observation, our Lord, knowing the purity and piety from which her assiduous attentions to himself had flowed, was pleased not only to offer an apology for her, but to place her conduct in such a light as to merit the warmest commendations, as if he had said, "As the precious ointment she has poured over my head and feet is so profuse, that it seems much more like the quantity needed on a funeral occasion, than the more economical way in which a visitor is greeted, the action of this penitent and believing woman must be considered as suited to my dying situation, and intended as an enbalment of my body, preparatory to its burial." It is obvious, that, by breaking the box of ointment, nothing more is meant than breaking the cement by which it was closed. To hermetically the boxes every time they were used, prevent the perfume from evaporating, it was customary to seal The whole of this affecting conduct of Mary was dictated by the most amiable feelings a feeling of love for the person of Christ-of respect for his character-gratitude for his goodness and a generous desire to devote her best, her all, to his service: and although we cannot now render such attentions to him as it was the privilege and honour of this humble believer to bestow, yet it becomes every follower of the Saviour to cherish the same lively sense of obligations to him, and to be ready to say, in the same spirit of resolute devoted ness, Were sceptres, crowns-with all their glittering show To wash my Jesus' feet with floods of tears, PHILOSOPHY OF THE SOCIAL CONDITION. BY JAMES STARK, ESQ., ADVOCATE, WE are born in society, and all our feelings, as well as our many wants, concur to retain us in it. Our life begins with the helpless years of infancy, when we are as incapable of supplying our wants as we are ignorant of the means of doing so, and are unable to express them though we knew them: it terminates in the scarcely less helpless years of second childhood; and throughout its whole course, from the cradle to the grave, it is exposed to every variety of weakness and distress, to loss of property, to loss of health, to loss of reason. Of independence, therefore, as of pride, we may say with the son of Sirach, it was not made for man, nor impatience for the offspring of woman. But see him in the vigour of health, and in the maturity of his age;-see the well built bark of man upon the tide of life, and carried as it were between earth and heaven by the kindly breezes of prosperity, he was not made to remain so, to continue an isolated, any more than an idle, thing upon the ocean of existence, without a purpose and without an object, but, like the vessel to which we have compared him, he was formed for export and import, and, by intercourse with man, to bring new accessions of wealth and glory to his owner. We find accordingly, that though man had no physical wants, and stood in need of no friendly aid, he is, by his constitution, so essentially a social being, that he could not permanently remain out of society without manifest violence to his nature. It is true, that in the Church of Rome, which ministers to every diseased feeling of the mind, convents are erected, wherein the excellence of the solitary life is proclaimed, and the deluded votaries fondly imagine they have escaped the corruption that is in the world, because they have renounced its business and its bustle; but the history of these abodes is but the history of vice and crime, and the repeated reformations of the monastic orders loudly declare the subtilty, as well as virulence, of that moral poison which lurks in the heart of the system. The moral constitution of man is also most evidently social. His feelings of attachment, love, and mercy; his powers of imitation; his desire of others' approbation; his sense of justice; and the sentiments of awe and reverence which swell his bosom, and force utterance in audible language even when there is no creature present to whom that language is intelligible: all these bespeak him a being formed for society. The same thing appears from the infinite variety of intellectual power and capacity which exist among mankind, and fit men for the different stations and occupations of life. Society, rightly constituted, is not a promiscuous crowd of human beings, each independent of, and unconnected with, the others: it is a community, a great scheme, the several parts of which perform in harmony their appropriate functions, and, like the different members of an organised body, conspire to form one important and harmonious whole. It is the doctrine of Scripture, and the dictate of common reason, that every one has his particular talents and place assigned him in the world by the Great Governor among the nations; and the man who fancies he has no place to fill, no talent to employ, is equally with him who. in the plenitude of his self-conceit, would look down upon all who are not engaged in the same sphere of duty with himself, ignorant of the very first principles of the social state. We are each of us stewards of the divine bounty; and though it be a very small thing to be judged of man's judgment, in comparison of the judgment of God; yet assuredly we are answerable to both God and man for the exercise of the talents confided to us. It is thus the apostle reasons, when exhorting the Christians of Rome and Corinth to cultivate the gifts severally bestowed on them by God, without disputing the relative importance of those gifts towards the general good; he compares the Church to the human frame. God," says he, hath set the members, every one of them, in the body as it hath pleased him."-(1 Cor. xii. 18.) And as we have many members in one body, and all members have not the same office, so we, being many, are one body in Christ, and every one members one of another."-(Rom. xii. 4, 5.) "There are diversities of gifts, but the same spirit; there are differences of administrations, but the same Lord; and there are diversities of operations, but it is the same God which worketh all in all."-(1 Cor. xii. 4, 5, 6.) 66 Christianity, indeed, is signally adapted to the human constitution, and its social character affords a new proof of the divine origin of our holy religion. God is every where present, and in every place men may lift up their hearts to him, as universally the hearer and answerer of prayer; but in condescension to the social character and constitution with which he has endowed man, "The Lord loveth the gates of Zion more than all the dwellings of Jacob.”—(Psal. lxxxvii. 2.) The temple to which the Psalmist, whose words we have now quoted, alludes, is no more, and the law under which it was erected has passed away, as the shadow before the approach of light; but the nature of man remains the same, and that nature is not more lasting than the condescension of Jehovah. We find, accordingly, that the prayer which Christ taught his disciples, is distin guished by its social character; it is the prayer not of an individual but of a community; and he has been graciously pleased to promise his peculiar presence to the assemb lies of his people, and to ascribe to their united prayers peculiar power and efficacy. "Again I say unto you, that if two of you shall agree on earth as touching any thing that they shall ask, it shall be done for them of my Father which is in heaven; for where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them."-(Matt. xviii. 19, 20.) We may say, indeed, that the Church exists but as a community; for its ordinances can be observed only in that state; and as the unity of the Church constitutes its peculiar beauty, so every schism and division in it not only mars that beauty, but is the occasion of moral weakness and spiritual debility. For if in the tender, but limited, relation of marriage, alienation is to be avoided that our prayers be not hindered, (1 Pet. iii. 7.), how much more in that state, of which the unity of human friendship and the closest and most lasting relation of life is but a faint and imperfect image? Well, therefore, might the Psalmist rejoice when he beheld the tribes go up towards the holy mount, proceeding from strength to strength till they appeared before the Lord in Zion.Every representation which we have of the Church in heaven, conveys to us the same idea; it is there, indeed, it will attain perfect unity, power, and glory. And if, in this twilight of our existence, where it is so difficult to discern the real qualities of moral objects, "where we know but in part, and prophecy but in part," there may nevertheless be such a cordial consent in the great truth on which the Christian Church is built, "that the gates of hell shall not prevail against | it." How will not its enemies be confounded, and sink into the dust in everlasting despair, when, in the realms of light, and reflecting the glorious beams of the Sun of Righteousness, the living stones of the heavenly temple shout one simultaneous note of triumph, and the finished fabric stands forth in all the moral grandeur of unity and truth! The joy of David must, therefore, be the joy of the Saint in every age: "I was glad when they said unto me, let us go up unto the house of the Lord." From what has been already said, we may see the principle of the great proportion of our duties. Society imposes on us, by its very nature, new obligations, and contracts the narrow path of solitary life. For as we must always keep before us the end of our being, we must, in society, not only do what is right absolutely, but what is right socially: in other words, we must so conduct ourselves, as that others, seeing our good works, may, in like manner, glorify God, (Matt. v. 16., John xv. 8.); and so use our absolute liberty, as not by any act of ours to raise up a moral stumbling-stone in our brother's way, or induce him, directly or indirectly, into sin. This may explain to us the apostle's language, "all things are lawful for me, but all things are not expedient," (1 Cor. x. 23.): they are lawful absolutely, but yet they may not be lawful when considered with reference to others; and accordingly the apostle adds, "all things are lawful for me, but all things edify not: Let no man seek his own, but every man another's good. The first and universal rule of life is, Do all to the glory of God: "Whether therefore ye eat or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of God," (1 Cor. x. 31.); and the primary canon of social life is, "Let all be done unto edifying," (1 Cor. xiv. 26.), or, in the language of the Psalmist, "to build up the walls of Jerusalem, "to build up the Church, nay, the entire fabric of society, and frame it into a temple to the great Creator. Subordinate and auxiliary to these, and as it were explicative of them, are all the precepts which enjoin and promote the various Christian and moral virtues; and particularly charity, (1 Cor. xvi, 14.), and meekness, (Tit. iii. 2.), peace, (Rom. xii. 18.), decency, and order, (1 Cor. xiv. 40.) feigned. Human love is but a rule ruled, a law subsidiary to the ultimate law of the universe, which is the glory of Him of whom, through whom, and to whom, are all things; and wherever the light of divine truth appears, whether in the Holy Scriptures, or by natural conscience, which is as "the candle of the Lord" shining upon the tables of the heart, there the path of duty is. What the divine will enjoins, is essentially right; what it forbids, is essentially wrong; and every deviation from the prescribed way will prove the inevitable occasion of misery and disorder. We must, therefore, keep ourselves pure from the blood of all men; see our way with our own eyes; and in no case prefer any approbation to the testimony of an approving conscience, and the favour and approbation of God, who is greater than our hearts, and knoweth all things, and will render to every one according to his works. CHRISTIAN TREASURY. Folly of Inconsistency. The comforts of the Gospel neither require nor admit such poor assistance as worldly amusements offer. The new nature and the old have each their respective proper food, suited to their different appetites and relish; and what is nourishing to the one, is death to the other. The best that I can say of professors that hanker after the world is, that if they are not dead, they are at least lamentably sick. It indicates a distempered constitution; and till they are debarred such trash, they will not recover their natural appetite. I must thus judge of Gospel hearers, who are to be seen at one time sitting under the ordinances, and at others mixing with the world at their plays, assemblies, and other diversions: either they never had a savour of divine things, or they have lost it; and to join with them and countenance them in their follies, far from being the way to gain them, is the direct way to harden and deceive them; and they are much more likely to draw us into the same spirit, than we are to reclaim them to a better conduct.—Newton. bad as I know of many. I will not speak worse than I know of any. To know evil of others, and not speak it, is sometimes discretion: to speak evil of others, and not know it, is always dishonesty. He may be evil himself who speaks good of others upon knowledge; but he can never be good himself who speaks evil of others upon suspicion.-WARWICK. Evil Speaking. It is not good to speak evil of all whom we know to be bad: it is worse to judge evil of those who may prove good. To speak ill upon knowBut as in the heathen morality all the virtues ledge, shows a want of charity. To speak ill upon suswere summed up in love of country, so in the Christ-picion, shows a want of honesty. I will not speak so ian scheme with a largeness of mind and heart worthy of its divine Author, that, disregarding the accidental and temporary distinctions of colour, place, and nation, views all mankind as the children of one gracious Parent, and every one who needs our help and assistance as a neighbour and a brother" all the law is fulfilled in one word, even in this, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself." Mutual love is the condition of social existence, and a duty co-relative to that which we owe to the common Father of all; "For he that loveth not his brother whom he hath seen, how can he love God whom he hath not seen. And this commandment have we from him, that he who loveth God love his brother also." (1 John iv. 20, 21.)—It is the salt which preserves society from corruption, and, like the sanative power inherent in the living body, it quickly heals the wounds which society receives, and "covers a multitude of sins;" it is the fountain of manners as of morals, and the living spring of patriotism; it is the test of Christianity, as given by the Saviour himself, (Matt. xiii. 35.); it is the bond of perfectness, (Col. iii. 14.), connects the Church on earth with the Church in heaven, and, like the vital principle within us, pervades, animates, and sustains the world. But let us not mistake here, nor suppose we exercise the love that edifieth, (1 Cor. viii. 1.), when, out of a fond complaisance, we either surrender our judgment to others, or countenance their sins. No; the charity which is the end of the commandment proceeds out of a pure heart, and of a good conscience, and of faith un The fulness of Scripture.—It is a saying of Lord Bacon's," that the Bible contains the seeds of things." The seed of his own celebrated maxim is derived from the Bible. "Knowledge is power," saith the philosopher. What else has Solomon expressed when he says, "The wise man is strong?"-H. The Christian Ephod.-When the Christian finds it difficult to acertain the path of duty, he will say, " Bring me the Ephod, "Rax me the Bible !" He will in quire which of these two ways would Paul have chosen? which would our Saviour have recommended? He will hear a voice behind him, calling him back, saying, "This is the way. That is the way which covetousness pursues; that the way which lewdness chooses; that is the way which the lover of the loftiness of life follows; but this is the way, walk ye in it." No one can say, "I was distressed about the path of duty, and though I sincerely searched my Bible, and earnestly prayed for direction, yet I went wrong.' The Word of God, and that alone, is competent to settle every doubt, if we are honest in our inquiry.-REV. DE WAUGH, SACRED POETRY. THE DYING CHRISTIAN. BY THE REV. DAVID LANDSBOROUGH, Minister of Stevenston. SAW you that look! Her eyes had long been shut; To the pale frame, ere the last thread is cut, TEMPORALS AND SPIRITUALS. WHAT is lovelier far than the spring can be While the earth below, and the heavens above, And the tear of contrition, lit up by its light, When the heart's broken accents of prayer and Are sweeter than nature's softest lays. What is stronger and brighter than summer's sun, Yet gentler than he when his goal is won, More glorious than summer's most cloudless day, From strength to strength, and from grace to grace, Outshines the sun in his glorious race. What is richer than harvest? what gladdens the heart Yet majestic and touching as autumn's eve, That the mercy and goodness vouchsafed him May still be his stay and his ev'ning song. When all is so calm and so lovely around, 'Tis the parting hour of the saint, when his cheek Is tinged with delightful emotion; When his eye and his smile in silence speak When his earthly beauty and vigour have flown, MISCELLANEOUS. Firmness in Duty. The celebrated Latimer, upon his promotion to the bishopric of Worcester, was called to preach before King Henry VIII. He was determined faithfully to discharge his duty, notwithstanding the tyrannical temper and ferocious cruelty of the king; and Providence signally honoured and protected him in the execution of his determination. His auditors were unable to bear his just rebukes; his sermon, in a convocation of bishops, was declared to be seditious; the sentence was communicated to the king, who sternly called upon Latimer to defend himself. The holy man, with undaunted courage, and recollecting his allegiance to the King of kings, said, "I never thought myself worthy, and I never sued to be a preacher before your grace, but I was called to it; and would be willing, if you mislike it, to give place to my betters; for I grant there may be many more worthy of the room than I am. And if it be your grace's pleasure, to allow them for preachers, I could be content to bear their books after them. But if your grace allow me for a preacher, I would desire you to give me leave to discharge my conscience, and to frame my doctrine according to my audience. I had been a very dolt indeed, to have preached so at the borders of your realm, as I preach before your grace." This bold and conscientious reply, instead of accomplishing Latimer's ruin with the king, and gratifying the malice of his accusers, was the means of insuring his safety and promoting his interest. The frown of the king was changed into a smile, and he dismissed the preacher with every mark of his favour and esteem. A Profane Swearer.—The Rev. Nicholas Thoroughgood was a minister of the Church at Monkton, in Kent, in the 17th century, and a bold reprover of sin. He had once preached so pointedly against swearing, that one of his hearers, who was addicted to this vice, thought it particularly aimed at him, and was so exasperated, that he determined to kill the minister. He accordingly hid himself behind a hedge in the way which Mr Thoroughgood usually took in going to preach his weekly lecture. When he came up to the place, the man who intended to shoot him levelled his gun, and attempted to fire, but it only flashed in the pan. The next week he went to the same place to renew his attempt, but the same event again happened. The man's conscience immediately smote him; he went after Mr Thoroughgood, fell upon his knees, and with tears in his eyes made a full confession of his sinful design, and asked his forgiveness. This providence was the means of the man's conversion. Published by JOHN JOHNSTONE, at the Offices of the SCOTTISH CHRISTIAN HERALD, 104, High Street, Edinburgh, and 19, Glassford Street, Glasgow; J. NISBET & Co., HAMILTON, ADAMS & Co.. and R. GROOMBRIDGE, London; W. CURRY, Junior, & Co., Dublin; and W. M'COMB, Belfast; and sold by the Booksellers and Local Agents in all the Towns and Parishes of Scotland; and in the principal Towns in England and Ireland. Subscribers in Edinburgh and Leith will have their copies delivered at their own residences regularly, by leaving their addresses with the Publisher, or with John Lindsay & Co., 7, South St. Audrew Street.-Subscribers in Glasgow will, in like manner, have their copies delivered, by leaving their addresses at the Publishing Office there, 19, Glassford Street. Subscription (payable in advance) per quarter, of twelve weeks, 1s. 6d. per half-year, of twenty-four weeks, 38.-per year, of fortyeight weeks, 6s.-Monthly Parts, containing four Numbers each, stitched in a printed wrapper, Price Sixpence. Printed at the Steam-Press of Ballantyne & Co., from the Stereotype Plates of Thomas Allan & Co. |