The individual, in such case, is so far living without God in the world: he is living as if God had nothing to do with the government of the world, or as if the existence of God were a fable. There is no virtue in mere indifference. It is not enough that we are free from anxiety: we must possess the opposite grace of trust in God. A man who is indifferent to the possession of a particular blessing is, indeed, free from all anxiety about it; but he is also free from all trust in God in regard to it. But, if a thing is, or appears to be, a real blessing, God does not require that we should be indifferent as to the possession of it. On the contrary, it is right for us to desire it, provided we are content to leave it to the will of God. The virtue consists not in having no desire of it, but in being free from all anxiety respecting it, through a perfect trust and confidence in God. In this way, and in this alone, we honour him by recognising him as the almighty, all-wise, and all-beneficent Disposer of all things.

There are others who are so surrounded by every comfort, that they have no room for temporal anxiety. With respect to such persons, however, though they can scarcely be guilty of the sin of anxiety, still they may have no trust in God, because they stand in need of no worldly good. And yet they have room for the exercise of this Christian grace. Riches make to themselves wings, and fly away: health is precarious, and connexions not to be relied on; and the pious mind, which views them in this light, and blesses God as the author of them, and looks to him for their continuance, truly exercises a spirit of dependence on divine providence as pleasing in the sight of heaven as the confidence reposed in the Almighty by one who knows not where to lay his head. This spirit of dependence, in the case of the rich and the wealthy and the well-connected, may, at first sight, appear a very easy matter, and one that is not to be compared, for a moment, to that which the poor and the sick and the helpless are required to exhibit. But, in reality, it is far from easy; for, such is the proneness of man to forget the Source of all good, and to trust in an arm of flesh, that he is no sooner in possession of temporal blessings, than he is in the most imminent danger of forgetting him from whom they all proceeded. It was of this danger that Moses so solemnly warned the children of Israel before they entered the land of Canaan; and their subsequent history too plainly testifies how needful, and yet how unavailing, that warning was.

The exhortations in scripture to divest ourselves of all worldly anxiety, and to put

our trust in God, are exceedingly numerous and remarkably striking. It may be useful to quote some of them, accompanying the quotation with such observations as may seem more particularly requisite.

In his sermon on the mount our Lord says, "Take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink, nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on. Is not the life more than meat, and the body than raiment? Behold the fowls of the air; for they sow not, neither do they reap nor gather into barns, yet your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not much better than they? Which of you, by taking thought, can add one cubit unto his stature? And why take ye thought for raiment? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they toil not, neither do they spin. And yet, I say unto you that Solomon, in all his glory, was not arrayed like one of these. Wherefore, if God so clothe the grass of the field, which to-day is and to-morrow is cast into the oven, shall he not much more clothe you, O ye of little faith? Wherefore, take no thought, saying, What shall we eat? or, What shall we drink? or, Wherewithal shall we be clothed (for after all these things do the Gentiles seek)? for your heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of all these things. But seek ye, first, the kingdom of God and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you. Take, therefore, no thought for the morrow; for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof" (Matt. vi. 25-34). The expression in the original Greek, which is translated "Take no thought," signifies, "Be not anxiously thoughtful;" and what is forbidden is, not a proper degree of providence, but an anxiety about the temporal things of the morrow. But, if we are under the necessity of taking thought for the morrow, how is it possible that we should avoid anxiety respecting the fitness of the plan or the means, and the result which is to follow? The answer is supplied by our Lord's subsequent words, in which he directs us to rely on the providence of God, and, for that purpose, to consider the divine power and goodness displayed in our creation, and the manner in which God sustains the inferior creatures, and clothes the grass of the field; and then to reflect upon the absurdity and impiety of disbelieving or forgetting that he is able, and at least equally ready and willing, to provide food and raiment for those of his creatures for whose sake all the other orders of creation were called into existence. We are directed to "seck first the kingdom of God and his righteousness;" that is, to regard

that as the most important object, and the | only object for which we may and ought to be anxious. And then, we are assured, will all necessary things of a temporal nature be supplied us; not, however, without due exertion on our part, but as the result of the divine blessing upon that honest industry which is so frequently enjoined in holy scripture, and which is, in fact, an integral part of the rightmindedness before pointed out as the primary object to be attained.

But anxiety is not merely forbidden as regards those things which are necessary to our very subsistence. The providence of God is not confined to these most important temporal blessings: it extends to all others. "Be careful" (i. e., anxious) "for nothing." And why? The answer is given in another place- The Lord will provide:" "My God shall supply all your need." Yet we are not to be indifferent: we are not to suppose that our need, whatever it may be, will be supplied without asking our heavenly Father to give us those things that are needful. For, after saying, "Be careful for nothing," the apostle immediately adds, "but in everything, by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known unto God."

Clouds and darkness may surround the road, yet, if we do but trust in God, we shall find a light break in upon our path; while those who walk in the light of their own reason, and trust to their own contrivances, will either find them to end in disappointment, or else to be attended with that unsanctified success, which is in reality the most dreadful adversity. "Who is among you that feareth the Lord, that obeyeth the voice of his servant, that walketh in darkness, and hath no light? let him trust in the name of the Lord, and stay upon his God. Behold, all ye that kindle a fire, that compass yourselves about with sparks walk in the light of your fire, and in the sparks that ye have kindled. This shall ye have of mine hand; ye shall lie down in sorrow" (Isai. 1. 10, 11).

Our belief in divine Providence 'should not only render us free from anxiety as to the result of our designs, but it should influence our minds in the course which we propose to take. "Commit thy way unto the Lord: trust also in him; and he shall bring it to pass." "The steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord; and he delighteth in his way" (Ps. xxxvii. 5, 23). "Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths" (Prov. iii. 5, 6).

It must be confessed that the application of these precepts to the exigencies that arise

in daily life is by no means free from difficulty. Is there not, it may be asked, great danger of being mistaken when we imagine that we are yielding to the direction of God? Doubtless there is; and many have been deceived in this respect. But this does not militate against the precept: it merely shows that there have been persons who have been mistaken in their notions of the right mode of acting upon it. If the exhortation proceeds from God, as it does, it follows that the course which we are exhorted to take would not only be wise if it were practicable, but that it is as practicable as it is wise.

It is, indeed, clearly unsafe to pay attention to these suggestions, springing up in the mind irrespective of a due consideration of actually existing circumstances, even though the party to whom they occur has made the question a subject of prayer. The suggestion may, in such a case, be the suggestion of God's Holy Spirit; but it may be nothing more than a passing thought, which possibly owes its birth to some consideration quite foreign to the will of God; and it is certain that it has often been found to be of the latter character.

The true way of submitting to the direction of Providence seems to be, first, to acquaint ourselves with the word of God, that we may find either some specific direction applicable to the case before us, or some general principle which clearly governs it, or some analogy which appears to bear upon it. Secondly, to endeavour, by God's grace, to know no will but his; to strive to attain to such a degree of faith in the divine wisdom, power, and goodness, and to such a distrust of our own judgment, as sincerely to wish to submit entirely to the will of God in regard to the subject in question. Thirdly, having thus made ourselves well acquainted with the word of God, and completely resigned our will to his, then earnestly and humbly to seek his direction in prayer; beseeching him so to guide our judgment of circumstances, and so to order the course of events, as to "make our way plain before our face." And then, fourthly, to be guided entirely by actually existing circumstances (except in cases where such circumstances are in fact the subjectmatter of our doubts), taking that course to which they appear to lead us, subject to the revealed word of God, under the firm conviction that, although it is impossible for a finite being to reconcile the divine Providence with man's free agency, yet the Almighty does "rule all things both in heaven and earth;" that "promotion cometh neither from the east, nor from the west, nor yet from the south; for God is the judge: he putteth down one, and setteth up another;" that a

man's heart deviseth his way, but the Lord directeth his steps;" that "the lot is cast into the lap, but the whole disposing thereof is of the Lord."

If any one of these means of arriving at a right conclusion be omitted, we may go wrong; but, if all these be faithfully used, it will be next to impossible that we should be deceived. We may, perhaps, even then, conceive that we formed a wrong conclusion, when, in reality, could we but estimate all the consequences of the steps we have taken, as well eternal as temporal, we should be satisfied that we had indeed been directed aright by the Providence of God. Though the course we have thus adopted may not have led to temporal prosperity, yet we might have been in a worse situation, even in a worldly point of view, if we had pursued any other plan. Or, it may have been designed that we should take that very course which would lead to trouble or disappointment, in order that our spiritual welfare might be promoted thereby. But, whatever may be the issue, if the conclusion at which we arrived was not just, it must have been because we omitted to use all the means above-mentioned, or we did not use them faithfully.

The experienced Christian is the only person who can possess entire, unreserved trust in God. The mere man of the world, and the almost Christian, have, as I have already observed, so faint an impression of the things of the eternal world, and so deep a sense of the value of temporal good, that they regard temporal wealth, honour, and power as absolute good, and, in fact, as the only real good. How, then, can they be content to leave their success in the hands of any one, even the Almighty himself, who would not infallibly secure to them the possession of this sole absolute good?

It is far otherwise with the true and experienced Christian. He knows and feels that at the fall temporal good ceased to be absolute good, that is, good under all circumstances and in all respects; and that, since that time, mere temporal good, whatever it may be, whether health, riches, honour, or power, has been only relative good, that is, good under certain circumstances and in some respects, but evil under other circumstances and in other respects, and therefore fitly termed, in the abstract, 66 good and evil." And hence he thankfully leaves it to God to decide for him, under the conviction that, if God gives him health, riches, honour, or power, it will then be real good; whereas, if he took them himself, they might bring to him evil rather than good, since they might be productive of eternal ruin. J. W. S.

INTEMPERANCE.

"The end of these things is death."

It was Saturday night, the rain was falling in torrents: in a miserable dwelling, on an old tained, sat a tall yet bowed-down woman. broken chair, almost the only one the house constill retained enough of youth to show that she She had once been beautiful, though now care-worn and emaciated. She was singing in a low, sweet, plaintive voice, to a sickly, restless infant: another child, a little girl, sat on the floor, gazing wistfully up into her mother's face; and that her tears as she stooped to smoothe her cheek, and patient, woe-worn mother smiled-smiled to hide murmured, "My darling, he will soon be here; and then my little one shall have her supper." A few moments after, the latch was lifted. A slight and, in spite of his tattered garments, a genteellooking boy entered.

mother," said he, flinging down his ragged cap "They will not let me have any more, dear with an air of despondency: "they say my father drinks, and there is little probability of their ever getting paid for what we have had;" and here the poor boy's voice faltered. The woman sat for some time in mute despair. At last she said:

"Well, Edward, what is to be done? Tomorrow is Sunday, and we must certainly starve, to say the word "to your uncle's, and beg a few unless you go again to"-she seemed almost afraid shillings perhaps if you tell him how absolute is our want, he will not, he cannot refuse."

As his mother spoke, the boy's white cheek became instantly suffused with burning crimson; his large dark, yet sunken eye flashed, as he exclaimed vehemently

"Never, mother, never. O, I would a thoudo not ask me;" and he hid his face in the arm sand times sooner starve, beg, die. O, mother, that rested on the table. A long silence ensued, which was at last broken by the little girl

"Mother, you said I should have some supper when Ned came back."

A low, suppressed sob was the only answer. cheek had settled to its ashy hue, the fiery light The next instant the boy's head was raised, the was quenched in his dark eye, and he stood at the woman's side, threw his arm around her neck, and stooping to kiss her prematurely furrowed brow, whispered

"Forgive me, dear mother, I know not what I said. O do not kill me by those tears, as if you had not misery enough without my increasing it. I will go this instant; and, after all, he cannot say more than he did the last time. Mother, look up: I will go."

"Edward," said the agitated woman, pressing him to her bosom, "gladly, most gladly, would I lay down my own life to save my precious boy one pang, one moment's grief; but it is not for myself I ask you to do what I feel and know to glanced at the sleeping infant), for their sake my be so humiliating, but for their sake (and she boy will throw aside all selfish feeling: my Edward will, I know, do his duty."

Another instant, and she stood, or rather kneeled, alone. How long, how weary was the next hour to the bleeding heart of the anxious mother! How

From the Canada Temperance Advocate,

"O take me with you, my beautiful, my best; leave me not to this loneliness of heart-this living death. My boy, my Edward, take your wretched mother with you.'

And what were the drunkard's feelings during this scene? Did not his soul smite him? It did, it did. Most keenly did he feel the pangs of remorse; yet he rushed from the house, and entered the first dram shop! "O thou invisible spirit of wine! if thou hast no other name to be known by, let us call thee, Devil!"

All was silent in the low dwelling. "Mother," said the dying boy, "raise my head, and lay it once again on your boscm. Do you weep," he continued, after a short pause, and making a feeble effort to throw his arm around her neck, "do you weep, dearest mother, that to-day you have a son on earth, to-morrow one in heaven? Do you weep that I am leaving a world so full of woe-a world that you yourself are so weary of for that bright heaven, that happy home, which we have so often talked about? The thought of parting from you is the only sting that death has for me. O, if I could but take you, sweet mother, with me! But you will soon come: you cannot stay without me.' Here his whisper became inaudible; his head pressed heavier on her bosom; a short gasp-a low sigh, and the unhappy woman clasped convulsively to her breast a lifeless corpse.

Many long hours had passed, yet that mother still hung motionless over her son: so still and immovable was she, you might have imagined that she too had bid farewell to earthly sorrow. Presently the door was pushed violently open, and a man staggered into the room. He stood for some time glaring round him, as if endeavouring to remember where he was. At last he recognised his wife, and, reeling towards her, he seized her arm and pulled her rudely up. As he did so, a low agonized groan showed that she was awakening to consciousness; but, as her eyes rested upon his face, a long, loud, appalling laugh rang through the cold dim room: then suddenly stooping, and laying one hand on the shoulder of the now sobered man, and with the other parting back the long black locks from the face of the dead child-"Do you see him, Charles?" she exclaimed, "do you see him; and do you know who has laid him in his early grave? Do you know who it was that clouded his young days with misery; that gave him for his portion here poverty and hardship and shame; that filled his cup of life so full of bitterness, that at the first taste he turned with loathing from it, and pined and died? Need I tell you, man-murderer," she shrieked, "that it was a drunken father? need I tell you that you have laid the head of your child in the dust, and broken the heart of the wife you had sworn to cherish?" then looking slowly and shudderingly round the dismal apartment, she sank again upon the body of her

ENCOURAGEMENT FOR CHRISTIAN

TEACHERS*.

As assistant-master in a free school, I instructed two classes, consisting, together, of one hundred and twenty children, of from ten to fourteen years of age. All these children were in life, and yet were dead. They were alive to the world: they were not dead to that which is earthly and carnal the play-ground was all life. In the schoolhours, instruction of all kinds was given them. They were well acquainted with the history of the world; with geography, natural philosophy, mathematics, German, French, and Latin; but though so alive to worldly objects, to heavenly ones they were dead. About the God of heaven and earth they troubled not themselves, inquired not after him, prayed not to him. His word they learned by rote, but took it not into their hearts. And thus have I ever found it in all schools with most of the pupils; and you who read this may be like many of my scholars. O that I could impress those words of the Son of God upon your hearts: "What shall it profit a his own soul? or what shall a man give in exman, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose change for his soul" (Mark viii. 36, 37)? Hear, then, how it was with my scholars, and learn from them. In the hours for religious instruction, impress upon their minds that all men are sinners as well as occasionally at other times, I sought to by nature; that they must all repent, and be born again, or from above," in order to be saved. At first they understood but little of what I said: then they learned it by heart; remaining, howhis sins, and said, "What shall I do to be saved??? ever, just in the same state: not one mourned for This deeply grieved me; and often with tears I "If I remain in my sins, I shall be lost for ever." supplicated the Lord, and said, "Lord, have mercy upon them; open their eyes and hearts to thy truth."

One winter evening, as I sat sorrowful and staircase, and then a knock at the door; and begrieving over them, I heard a bustle upon the hold, who was there? Eight boys, with their question of what was their business, by saying, They answered my

bibles under their arms.

You have often exhorted us to turn unto the Lord; we find also in the bible that no man, without being born again, can enter the kingdom