decked its glens. The rose was in Sharon, and the lily in the valleys. The voice of the turtle was heard in the land. There roamed the vine, and there clustered the date, and there hung the pomegranate. The cedar towered on the mountains, and the myrtle skirted their sides. No human hand could raise the clusters of Eshcol. The south wind, passing over the gardens, caused the spices thereof to flow out. The seasons revolved in their variety, but with a blended sweetness. There was the upland breeze, in which the fir could wave its arms, and the softer air, in which the olive unfolded its blossom. The sun smote not by day, nor the moon by night. The birds sang among the branches. The dew lay thick in Hermon. There was balm in Gilead. The lign-aloe drooped from the river-bank. Kedron and Jordan poured forth their streams. The rain also filled the pools. Lakes glistened in the landscape and cooled the drought. Beautiful for situation was Mount Zion. The cattle browsed on a thousand hills. The excellency of Carmel, and the glory of Lebanon, set their pinnacles against the deep azure of Canaan's sky. The year was crowned with goodness. The Lord God cared for that land, and His eye was always upon it. At the stated period fell the early and latter rain. The pastures were clothed with flocks. The ploughman overtook the reaper, and the treader of grapes him that sowed the seed. The barns were filled with plenty, and the presses burst out with new wine. The little hills rejoiced on every side. Precious fruits were brought forth by the sun, and precious things were put forth by the moon. The earliest pass, the valley of Achor, was a door of hope. The vineyards distilled the pure blood of the grape. The fountain of Jacob was upon a land of corn and wine. The inhabitants were filled with the finest of the wheat. It flowed with milk and honey. Its heavens dropped fatness. It was surrounded with munitions of rock. The deep, couching beneath, spread its sure defence. The land might be called Beulah. The distant glimpse of its prospect refreshed the dying eye of Moses; and of all thy earthly territory, this is emphatically 'Thy land, O Immanuel.””—“ Biblical Topography," by Rev. S. Ransom. THE SABBATH. "We are not poorer, but richer, because we have through many ages rested one day in seven. That day is not lost. While industry is suspended, while the plough lies in the furrow, while the exchange is silent, while no smoke ascends from the factory, a process is going on quite as important to the wealth of nations as any process which is performed on more busy days. Man, the machine of machines, the machine compared with which all the contrivances of the Watts and Arkwrights are worthless, is repairing and winding up, so that he returns to his labours on the Monday with clearer intellect, with livelier spirit, with renewed corporeal vigour."-Lord Macaulay. "Contrast the quietness and rest of a real Sabbath, such, for instance, as is observed in Scotland, with the state of thousands and tens of thousands returning, in excursion trains and over-laden omnibuses, back to London at a late hour on the Sunday, after the weary, aye, the most wearisome, feverish, and laborious pursuits of pleasure. Why, it is a proverb that there is no day so laborious as a day utterly devoted to what is called recreation. Let this be a weekly practice, and we can hardly conceive of any system that would tend more rapidly to wear out the very frame of man, as well as to wear out every remnant of religious feeling in his mind."-Sir Thomas Chambers, M.P. EXTEMPORANEOUS PRAYER. "There is a spirit of prayer which is not always brought to the house of God, even by the best and holiest of men. Public prayer is to excite this, as well as to express it, or to aid its expression. Now, I do maintain that where the minister is what he ought to be, there is more likelihood of his exciting devotion by free prayer than by the use of familiar forms, however unexceptionable and excellent in themselves. I have heard prayers which have gradually kindled, elevated, and enlarged the souls of the wrapt yet subdued people, by their solemnity and richness, in a way which was utterly indescribable, but which no Liturgy that was ever framed could possibly effect. The heart has been touched and softened; all sorts of emotion called forth; the truths of the common faith, implied in every sentence, have been brought before the mind with luminous clearness, and made to act with a penetrating power; penitence, faith, hope, joy, with all other corresponding sentiments, have been evoked and sustained; the invisible has been revealed the world has disappeared; the presence of the Comforter' has seemed a consciously-felt reality. Such seasons are 'times of refreshing from the presence of the Lord,' when the assembled Church feels 'the powers of the world to come.' Every man with the slightest spark of Christian life in him feels bettered, enriched, purified, exalted; he is humbler, stronger, above more loving, more holy, more joyous; 'filled,' by a Divine blessedness' with' or 'unto'' all the fulness of God!' Yet, with all this, few or none might be conscious of directly offering up prayer,-offering, I mean, the words of any one of the petitions uttered,—or of literally uniting in, by actually repeating, what they heard of adoration, contrition, confidence, or joy. An objector would say that they did not pray, or that they did not join in prayer with the minister and with each other, that they only listened to one another praying. I say that their whole spiritual nature prayed; their souls were a living sacrifice: they themselves were a petition, presenting and constituting such a prayer as you read of when it is said, 'The Spirit maketh intercession in us,' in a manner that cannot be uttered.' Depend upon it, 'He that knoweth the mind of the Spirit,' and who can do for us what we can either ask or think,' does not regard as insignificant or worthless such prayers as these,—these which are inward things, living thoughts,-thoughts and things which are unuttered because they are unutterable, 'a meditation of the heart' which 'the words of the lip' cannot express; but things, nevertheless, which have a voice and meaning in them understood by 'Him with whom we have to do,' who can interpret what He sees within us, translating, as, it were, the dumb and the inarticulate into a language far more expressive, copious, and exact than man or angel ever knew, to whom the 'groanings' of Humanity may not only be as acceptable, but in whose ear they may be as sweet and as harmonious as the song of sinless intelligence and the symphonies of the upper world." COMMUNION SUNDAY AT NORTHAMPTON. (Dr. Stoughton.) "Doddridge's gift in prayer was eminent; his administration of the Lord's Supper exemplary. A season of memorable enjoyment must the service often have been, judging from the sacramental meditations, which we sincerely thank the spiritually-minded administrator of the ordinance for recording in his diary. On the Sunday evening did the good people of Castle Hill, in those times, show forth their Lord's death, availing themselves of moonlight nights, for the convenience of such as lived in the adjacent villages. One can picture them, their minds filled with the holy things their much-loved Doctor had been saying, wending their way in rustic conveyance, or trudging on foot, through Northampton's' silent streets and the still more silent roads, looking up to the pale blue ocean sky, and the moon floating there with her silver sails and her train of starry barks; musing, perhaps, on the beautiful hymn in which their pastor has embalmed the spirit of his discourse on 'God the everlasting Light of the Saints above.' 'Ye golden lamps of Heaven, farewell, Pale empress of the night. Ye stars are but the shining dust The pavement of those lovely courts The Father of eternal light Shall there His beams display ; Nor shall one moment's darkness mix |