spread over him its broad and ample canopy, and when the ladder appeared it would leave open a pathway by which God might e near to His loved one and comfort him in all his troubles. And also was fulfilled to Jacob, fulfilled to his children and to his posteri fulfilled above all, when Emmanuel the son of Jacob made the nescent ladder a glorious spiritual fact, blessing all nations of earth by opening a pathway to heaven, and placing one end of ladder on Calvary, fixed the other to the throne, and standing it, beckoned the whole human family to climb to the land of ete day, and sent His ministering spirits to help the weary ones as toil upward to the mansions of bliss.

And when Jacob awoke, behold it was a dream, but a dream left a reality behind; for there are two things very marked in his state of mind.

1. Reverence for God.
2. Reverence for the earth.

The first is seen in the awe with which he bends before his 1 He feels it dreadful to be so near to the King of heaven ; and here is a mark of genuine goodness. He lives, for he worships. crisis is past. The flowers of devotion are springing from the so reverence, and the morning kissing the summits of the eastern and the sun rising to bless our world, are emblems of a light which dawned upon his soul in “the Sun of righteousness, which has a with healing under its wings.”

And the earth also is made glorious. He reverences the very st and heath because God is there. He is no pantheist, but sees beauty of the Lord upon the whole earth, and

“There's nothing bright above, below,

From flowers that bloom to stars that glow,
But in its light his soul can see
Some image of the Deity.”

Nature is at peace with the child of God. The Lord in His ter moves amongst the hills and valleys and forests, as truly as when called them into being by His word, and with His fatherly benedict pronounced them“ very good.”

And here we face a truth which in the present day our young should write deeply on the tablets of the heart—« God's house wherever God's presence is found.” We rear a stately edifice Corinthian columns, or with Gothic walls, and windows, and arch we fill it with eager masses of men, and send amongst them 1 tones of the organ thrilling the soul with sounds now blending, nu dividing, now low as the wail of a dying child, now loud as the vo of many waters; and the voice of the orator, as it thunders and lighte over the people, stirs up sensuous emotions which we call worsh and over the building we write “ Bethel,” the house of God. B look at the first Bethel : a few furze bushes, a few stones, an op plain, and a son who has left his father's house. No glorious buildir

music, save that of the peace of God; no masses of men, no tumult

clangour of drum ecclesiastic, but the presence of God; and rever this is awanting, we may have splendid buildings, tasteful ic, well-dressed attentive worshippers, eloquent preaching, and yet God to make the place of His feet glorious. These neither bring hinder the Divine presence. ncoats, Manchester.

THE UNPARDONABLE SIN. HERE is much dispute among elasticity; and a moody temperable on this subject, and there are ment succeeded. His friends were ons who have felt the most dis alarmed. A suspicion was started sing fears concerning their own among them that his conclusions 13-fears which were certainly might be just. This he marked and lout good foundation. The follow laboured to confirm it. He seemed case is one ; and one of the many to take a negative satisfaction in ch might be cited to show the stating the desperation of his case, h of this.

and in watching the fallen countefr. L. had enjoyed the privilege nance of sympathy. sitting under an able and suc Many months had transpired, sful ministry. His heart had been during which he was the subject of ched; and, during a remarkable religious gossip with some of a kind iod, in which he saw many of his of superstitious dread with others, ands embracing the hope of sal and of fervent prayer with a few of tion, his own convictions increased. the remainder; when the case was t long after his feelings of im stated to a judicious minister, whom ience became sensitive. His at Divine providence had called into ition was subsequently turned the neighbourhood. He waited on m its own proper object to one Mr. L., who, far from being averse rre nearly connected with our to any conversation relative to his tural selfishness. He ceased to own state, seemed rather to court it. an inquirer and became an objec He was fluent in all his details of t. It is hard to stop here. Oppo time and circumstance; and always con succeeded a habit of objecting. | ended his narrative with a declaran apparent bitterness of prejudice tion that he had for ever ceased to id malevolence of expression were pray. After a preparatory interoservable whenever he opened his change of remarks, he was asked, ps on the subject of religion. Still “ You believe yourself guilty of the Le past day of conviction was a unpardonable sin ?” remorable time to him. Five years "I am sure of it.” iterwards he was again roused to a “In what did the crime consist ?" ense of his danger. And with the “I opposed the work of God.” larm came the frightful recollec “ So did Saul.” lon of his conduct. Language which

“I denied Jesus Christ." he had uttered—and which appeared

“ So did Peter.” jearly allied to blasphemy-returned “I doubted the power of Jesus resh to his memory. He accused Christ, after strong evidence in His limself of having committed the favour." mpardonable sin. All efforts to

“ So did Thomas." persuade him to the contrary were “What! are you attempting to

availing. The impression was prove by such examples that I am ally deepening. His mind lost its | a Christian?"

“Not at all: I am only inquiring | have been guilty to an unpardo into the nature of your guilt; and | extent; for these are character thus far I see no reason for despair." of a state of mind faithless, bu

“I have hated God,” rejoined the from being desperate. And self-condemned man, “and openly come within the design of the g avowed my enmity in sight of His invitations." Divine operations."

There was something simpl “Thus far your case is lamentable touching in this mode of minist indeed: but not hopeless still. Our to a mind diseased. And it hearts are naturally at enmity with duced an effect which, probab God. And I do not see why the other process would have at open avowal of this, drawn out by the plished. Mr. L. did not long su sight of the law into visible form, this interview. But his living must necessarily and always consti dying were those of a favoured tute the guilt of which you accuse tian. Alas, that many persons la yourself.”

ing under a like delusion respe “I feel that I am cut off from sal the sin against the Holy G vation."

should not be enlightened by si "It is difficult to reason against instruction! Doubtless not a fem your feelings.”

never committed this sin, have “But are they no proof on the for years, and then died, unde present subject p.

horrible conviction that they “Let me inquire whether you de thus sinned away the day of gr sire the pardon of your sins.'

And how many there are, "Assuredly, if it were possible.” because they are dyspeptic an

“Do you regret the conduct of sponding, fanoy that they are do which you accuse yourself?”.

to perdition. If they would si “Certainly,"

believe God, and give credit to “Do you sincerely desire repent words of grace and peace, they v

find in God's mercy a cure f “I would give the world if it were their sorrows, a refuge from all mine to be able to do so."

doubts, and a pardon for all “Then it is not possible that you sins.

THE SELF-DEVOTION OF THE SAVIOUR. THE LAST SERMON PREACHED BY THE LATE REV. J. CLARE, OF PERT

" As Christ also loved the church, and gave Himself for it; that He might sa and cleanse it with the washing of water by the word, that He might present it to self a glorious church, not having spot or wrinkle, or any such thing; but th should be holy and without blemish."--EPH, v. 25–27.

Had the writing in which these words are found been an essa dissertation, or any set form of composition, objection might be ta to the incidental and digressive manner in which they are introdu For it seems scarcely fitting that so great a truth should be put a merely subordinate and auxiliary position—that it should be i merely to illustrate a lesser truth. It seems as if such truth as ought to stand in its own sublimity and glory, as an absolute independent affirmation, subordinating all truths and illustrations

* Communicated by the Rev. J. B. Burt, of Beaulieu.

itself. As this writing however is not a treatise, but a free and familiar pistle, this incidental manner in which so great a truth is introduced loes not injure it, but rather enhances its interest. The apostle peaking of the conjugal union and the duties arising out of it, turns side from this theme to the greater union of Christ with His hurch, and adduces that greater union as an illustration of the dignity nd sacredness of the lesser one. And, inculcating on husbands the uty of loving their wives, he brings in the example of the greater sve of Christ for His Church, as the pattern of it and the motive to

Thus the human and the Divine, the earthly and the heavenly, are rought into beautiful juxtaposition; but not thereby is the one wwered and degraded, but the other, rather, is upraised, refined, and xalted. Thus this great truth, if it is introduced obliquely rather than directly, only casts its heavenly light the better on surrounding sbjects.

Let us now consider-1st, the love that is here spoken of; 2ndly, he self-devotion; 3rdly, the purpose and design of that selfevotion. I. THE LOVE. He“ loved the Church.” The love of Christ is altogether an ineffable and transcendent ieme. It is so different in so many of its characteristics and condions from all human love, so far above the sphere of our human ideas nd experiences, so superior to anything which we call love besides, bat it is difficult to obtain any real grasp of the subject, or to form uy distinct and satisfactory conception of it. We have no standard which we can estimate it, no measure which we can apply to it. For is boundless, Divine, infinite, incomprehensible, unspeakable. “It higher than heaven, what can we know?” The sacred writers anifest a consciousness of this difficulty when they treat of the ibject. Witness the apostle in this epistle. The truth is, it is not te logical understanding, the reasoning faculty, that is able to deal ith this subject at all, but it is rather the affectional or sympathetic culty. Some one says we could never look on the sun unless we had sunny eye, and assuredly we cannot understand the love of Christ pless we have a loving heart. It is not the theologian that is wanted or this subject, but the penitent, pardoned, grateful sinner. Thus the postle : “That ye, being rooted and grounded in love, may be able to imprehend with all saints what is the breadth and length, and depth ad height, and to know the love of Christ which passeth knowdge." Here, however, we are led to observe, that if the love of Christ is eyond our comprehension, it is not beyond our appreciation. If it passeth knowledge," we may yet “know" it. For we must be careful remember that widely as it is removed from all earthly love it is not transcendental abstraction of which we can form no positive concepon. It is infinitely superior to human love in degree, but it is not ssentially different from it in kind. For it is love, and love is the ame sweet and blessed thing whether in the heart of man or God. The love of Christ is the same real and affectionate love that beats human bosoms, but without its impurities, its selfishness, its chang fulness, and its limitations. It is the same love purified, refined, exalte infinitised. Let us therefore fix ourselves on the reality of Christ love while we lose ourselves in its infinity. Let us rejoice in its know nature if we are bewildered by its unknown degree. Let us taste if we cannot gauge it, and know its sweetness if not its greatness and when we are told that Christ loved the Church, let us remembe that that love faces us with an aspect of true and gracious tendernes though it expands in the background into an infinite mystery.

But let us notice more particularly of this love of Christ to H Church, that it is pure and perfect. For it is spontaneous, free, disit terested ; it is sovereign, self-moved, self-prompted, undeserved, ar unrequited; it springs unforced from an eternal and ever-flowin fount in His compassionate bosom ; it is the outgoings of a pu beneficence; it is the yearnings of eternal pity over the guilty and th lost, the condescensions of Infinite Majesty to polluted dying worm There was no obligation to necessitate this love; there was no price t purchase it; there was no merit to deserve it, no right to demand i no voice to entreat it. Nay, there was the contrary of all this. The was guilt to provoke, there was impurity to repel, there was ingrat tude that deserved neglect, and insignificance to excite contemp There was nothing to awaken love or excite compassion, but everythir to arouse vengeance and to incur punishment, and we might ha remained unloved and unsaved for ever. But Christ loved us-love the unlovely, pitied the unworthy, and nourished from all eternity deep and tender affection for the rebellious and the vile. We, even "the church,” were altogether sunk in sin, in pollution, in sham in infamy, in deserved condemnation, but Jesus had compassion up us.

" He saw us ruined in the fall,

Yet loved us notwithstanding all.” “ There was no eye that pitied us, to have compassion upon us," bu He looked down benignantly upon us from the ages of eternity, an

foreknew us and chose us in Himself before the foundation of th - world. “The Lord has appeared of old unto me, saying, Yea, I ha loved thee with an everlasting love; therefore with lovingkindne have I drawn thee." Yes ; Christ loved the Church. And this pa tense may be taken in its widest application. For He loved us from the first. From everlasting, in the beginning, or ever the earth wa then His delight was with the sons of men and in the habitable par of the earth. When man was made He loved him; when he fell ! pitied him; and when he began to be redeemed and the Church begs to be gathered, He had complacency in him; when the fulness of tim came, the fulness of His love came with it, for the ages are not mor full of time than His heart is full of compassion. And with wha emphasis may it be said of Him when He took our nature—“Chris loved the Church”! For surely His incarnation was not only a man