tend to warp his conscience? As it is ruin to the navigator to bring the hard iron near to the needle by which he steers; so it is destruction to you to allow sin to destroy the balance of a well ordered, moral principle, permeated by the Spirit's teaching. Let the course it points out in all cases, and under all circumstances, be adopted, provided it harmonize with the plain precepts of Holy Writ, and it will lead you into the secret of much else. Things that seemed to obey no rule, will gradually arrange themselves into the several parts of a clear and harmonious whole; system will arise to your apprehension above many, many doubts and distractions; you will perceive that these winds are under the guidance of some great law that helps on your bark, now that the helm is well controlled; you will find that there is a wonderful current in the ocean which is drawing you on to the great centre of all, the great God of all; you will find that it is only when you sail athwart the one, and endeavour to cross the other, that you are in so much of perplexity and doubt; you will find, that although rough storms may come, you will stand firmer to your tiller, and more easily furl your sail; and thus self-possessed you will easily weather the gale, and with joy salute the stars, these lights of the past, as they no longer move in contrary directions.

Brothers! sailors with me on this vast ocean! let us take care of this first principle, the moral voice within the soul. Let us seek for it the baptism of the Spirit. Let the entrance of the Word give light. Let the blood of Christ purge the conscience from dead works to serve the living God. Then see where it points, and bend every thought, centre every action, every desire, and the whole will on that point. Touched by supernatural power, it shall become the magnetic needle of your soul. Influenced by a Divine attraction, it shall ever point to the true pole of humanity, the glory of the great God. Then, your

aim being single, your whole inner man and outward character shall be full of light.

Our

We began these words with life under the figure of a landscape, and we have come to consider it under the metaphor of a sea. It is far more important and sublime, than any of these allusions to nature can make it. There is a line of light, a thread of silver going out from every heart; all of which are marvellously gathered in the hand of Him, "in whom was life," and whose life was the "light of men." courses may not be correlative, but they all lead to the same end. We may help each other; we may gain help from institutions, from creeds, and other conventionalisms, but this is all they can do. No book, no prophet, no wise man, can teach us or instruct us, if we let go the thread of silver. Destruction and misery impend fearfully, when the conscience is seared. as with a hot iron.

There is nothing in this world can sever it against our will. It may lead us across many mountains, on which impenetrable mists may hang; it may lead us along many stony ways, where poverty holds her desolate reign; but its light will never wane; it will grow stronger, and you will grow braver; it will becomǝ brighter, and you more heroic. The path of the JUST— of the mind whose natural aberrations are corrected; whose volitions are brought into obedience to the law of Christ; and whose instincts are those of a renewed nature is as the shining light which groweth brighter and brighter unto the perfect day.

Bearsted.

S. G. J.

A VOLUME IN A LINE.

CHRIST is the Universal Spring of all life.

THE DROP OF RAIN.

A FARMER stood at early morn,
Examining his field of corn;

How poor and thin was every blade!
For all the ground was parched and dry
Through want of some refreshing rain;
And, if the showers should long refrain
From lending their much wished for aid,
Why, it was plain, his crop must die.

As on he walked, with mournful tread,
A little rain-drop overhead-
Concealed within a soft, grey cloud-
Exclaimed in sympathizing tone,
"How sad the farmer looks to-day!
I wish I could his griefs allay,

And chase the fears that round him crowd.

But what can I achieve alone?

"No," said another rain-drop; "you

But little good can hope to do;
For, even if you choose to fall,

You will not wet one blade, I fear."
"True, true, dear friend; yet surely I
To do the best I can should try;
And, though I am so very small,
The farmer's heart, perhaps, may cheer."

By generous impulses thus sent,
Down, down, the little rain-drop went;
And brushed against the farmer's nose,
Ere she alighted on the ground.
"Dear," cried the farmer, with a stare;
"Why that's a rain-drop I declare;
We soon may have a shower-who knows?"
And hopefully he glanced around.

When the first rain-drop said good-bye,
And started from the cloudy sky;
"Oh," said the second drop, "if you
Will go, I may as well descend;
So here I come." That drop was borne
In safety to a stalk of corn.

Then other drops courageous grew,
And hastened down, their help to lend.

And soon there fell a plenteous shower,
Which softened by its gentle power
The hardened and the scorched-up soil,
And lifted up each drooping blade;
And, when the autumn came again,
That field was full of ripened grain;
And the glad farmer found his toil
And patient waiting well repaid.

And all because one little drop
Did what it could! Dear reader, stop,
And ask yourself, "What use am I?"
Your daily life and acts explore;
Say, are you doing what you can
To help and bless your fellow-man?
For if to do your best you try,
Dear reader, angels do no more.

H. M. W.

"ALL THESE THINGS ARE AGAINST ME," GENESIS xlii. 36.

AGED patriarch, weeping father,
Why this lamentation? Rather,
Strive to raise the notes of thankfulness;
These events which grieve and awe thee,
Not "against" thee are, but for thee;
Soon will joy evolve from thy distress.

When the sequel of life's story,

When thy son's renown and glory

Floods each darkened page with welcome light,
Then with grateful adoration

Thou shalt read God's explanation,
And confess his ways are wise and right.

Weary Christian! full of mystery
At this moment seems thine history;
But couldst thou the future clearly see,
That which now is linked with sadness,
Would enkindle hope and gladness :-
Hieroglyphics only want their key.

Wait in faith; from present sorrow
Springs the joy which cheers the morrow;
Trials often are misunderstood.

If on God thou art depending;
Child-like trust with patience blending;
Are not all things working for thy good?

H. M. W.

THE RELIGION OF POETRY.

“BUT, you know, religion is brought into every thing now-a-days, and I certainly shall not be less ready to question the moral tendency of the work which you recommend, because it is garnished over with that sort of poetical piety, which all authors now find it expedient to introduce:"-this was the burden of a remark to which we were recently listeners; a remark which, more or less modified, we so often hear, that it may have had somewhat to do with the query which has of late been propounding itself to our mind, “What is this Religion of Poetry ?"

Now we are no believers in the deterioration of mankind in the present age: we have no sympathy

D