God, in the sovereign displays of his righteous justice by which he makes even the wickedness of a Pharaoh to praise him, hardens not, as we use the word, by making that hard which was soft before, but by leaving the naturally hard heart to itself, without sending into it that grace which alone could soften it; and by hardening it as a punishment as in the case of Pharaoh, of whom it is thrice said that "he hardened his heart," and afterwards that God hardened him. So also in the case of the heathen, Rom. i. 28.

THE SUN OF RIGHTEOUSNESS. (Mal. iv. 2.)

ALL the names assigned in Scripture to God the Father are found realized in the person of his blessed Son the Lord Jesus, "God manifest in the flesh." And, on the other hand, many of the names and titles of the Lord Jesus may be applied to the Father also. This is the case with the name above given: it is spoken of with reference particularly to the Messiah; but may be compared also with other titles which apply equally to the Father and the Son, or rather to Jehovah, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

Without taking the more obvious allusions contained in the title of "The Sun of Righteousness," we may, under the figure of the Sun (as in Psalm 1xxxiv. 11) consider the unchangeableness of Jehovah, the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever. This may be done by comparing it with 1 John i. 5, where God is set forth as light, in whom is no darkness at all: and again with James i. 17, where he is spoken of as the Father of lights, with whom is no variableness, neither shadow of turning.

Now we look at the sun at the dawn of day, and see it through the mists at the horizon; and we say, the

sun is rising. We look at it afterwards through the clearer atmosphere when it is in its meridian height, over our heads, and it appears to us quite a different object. Again we see it towards evening apparently gradually retiring, and we speak of it as the setting sun. In each case it appears different. But all this while the change is not in it, for it remains immoveable, the change is in the situation of our earth; the circumstances under which we behold it, the levels from which we look upon it, are different.

Just such is our case with respect to God, both as regards the grand change of our nature which took place at the fall, and the continual changes which are ever and anon still taking place in us. God is the Lord: he changes not. He is infinite love, however we may consider of him. With respect to the altered character under which God appeared at, and since, the fall, the change was not in him, but in Adam: and whereas Adam had in the days of his innocency walked with God; no sooner did he sin than his nature became a fallen nature, and the level on which he before stood with relation to God was entirely changed. And as well might we assert that the sun which shone upon the earth before the fall was changed at the fall, because the earth afterwards brought forth thorns and thistles, as imagine for one moment that the unchangeableness of Jehovah was in any way affected by man's disobedience. It was the earth that was accursed of God, the sun still remained the same; it was man whose nature was corrupted and changed, Jehovah remained unchangeable. On a future occasion we may, with the Lord's blessing, consider this in another but similar point of view, as it respects us now in our various states of spiritual feeling, happy and otherwise

Σ.

DUNGERTH'S MONUMENT..
St. Cleer, Cornwall.

IN its stern solitude it stands

A rough-hewn shaft of granite gray, But time, or the despoilers hands,

Have reft the transverse stone away: Yet on that stone, in its decay,

The eye may trace a mystic scroll, Which calls on passers by to pray

For mercy to the Chieftain's soul. And who was he? Of him no more Bard or historian can make known, Than what from Legendary lore,

Or mere tradition may be shewn : He fill'd perchance some petty throne, At least he bore a Prince's name; He died! and this memorial stone

Is the sole guardian of his fame.

Him might the minstrel of his day

Paint wise in hall, in battle tried;

Or pour forth his funereal lay,

When sunk beneath the whelming tide:

But other thoughts there are allied
With this rude wreck of olden time,
Which well a Christian Bard may guide
To frame his meditative rhyme.

Prayers for the dead we know are vain,
However pious or sincere;

Yet I, for one, can not disdain

The brief inscription graven here:

If humble hope, or holy fear,

The suppliant's heart might glow or chill,
Though for the dead heaven could not hear,
The living might be better'd still.

Perchance not useless such appeal

In that half savage martial age;

When heads and hands were sheath'd in steel,
And hearts were train'd fierce war to wage:

Aught that one moment could engage

The breast to heave a softening sigh,
Or thought to scan one onward page
Of man's eternal destiny-

Might keep in salutary check

Of brutal power the sterner force,
And tend to rescue from the wreck

Of manners harsh, and habits coarse
Feelings which own'd a gentler source,-
In mercy to our nature given;
'Till e'en the clouds of dark remorse

By gleams of purer light were riven.

Bernard Barton.

Dangerth was a Prince of Cornwall, and drowned in the Redgate river. This monument to his memory stands in a field to the N. of St. Cleer Church; it consists of an upright shaft of granite, the top, or cross piece, of which has fallen into a pit at the base. On the fallen part some rude characters may be traced, which have been interpreted to mean, Pray for the soul of Dungerth.' This, however, seems unlikely, and if correct, we could not in these days, (when the unscriptural doctrines of Popery are alas too lightly regarded,) have introduced the sentence without condemning it. This the amiable Poet has distinctly done; and yet, without apologizing for superstition, has drawn from it a pleasing moral.

THE fearful hold which Idolatry continues to have over the minds of the Africans is, from time to time,

I