nal an article which should begin by saying that "last Sunday the Rev. Mr. Log ascended his pulpit, and preached in his usual dull and stupid fashion;" and if the article then proceeded to show in detail the badness of Mr. Log's reasoning, the infelicity of his illustrations, and his general unfitness to instruct his fellow-men. I venture to differ from the clever writer already spoken of. It is conceivable that the homely discourse, though it did not please a sharp critic going to hear the preacher for one day, might yet do good to the people for whom it was written, who went to be instructed rather than to criticise, and who knew by long experience the faithfulness and diligence of the good man who preached it. Religious instruction need not be brilliant, nor eloquent, nor original, to serve very effectually the great end at which all worthy religious instruction aims. And that end, it may be said, is not to satisfy a chance reviewer who has dropped into church by accident, but to benefit and comfort the congregation which habitually worships there.

Yet it may be recorded for the gratification of such as may differ from me, that there are localities in which a system is carried out which subjects religious instruction to a severe censorship. I recently read the advertisement of an enterprising bookseller, which said, that, with the view of inducing children to take more interest in going to church, the bookseller had prepared a series of printed schedules, which

might be purchased in a form like that of a bank check-book. On each Sunday morning the child might be supplied with a schedule torn out of this book, and with a pencil. And while in church, the child might note down, upon blank spaces provided, the preacher's name, his text, the way in which he handled his subject, and some appreciation of his voice and manner: whether good, bad, or indifferent. A friend of mine saw one such schedule after it had been filled up by a boy of ten years old. Under the head of Manner, the youthful critic had written the words, MIGHT BE IMPROVED. Probably the province of criticism could hardly be extended farther. can imagine how much likelihood there is that a child trained to go to church in such a spirit would ever be impressed or improved by sermons listened to for the purpose of passing judgment upon them. And you can imagine how that child, having grown up, would develop into the human being who would employ that unutterably hateful expression which people in America employ when they desire to praise their preacher: the expression, to wit, that he is a preacher who

GIVES SATISFACTION.

You

So let us turn away from the leaden sky and the sullen waves. They will be oftentimes blue and bright before we see them again.

HERE is a picturesque tract of the Western Highlands of Scotland, in passing through which the traveller has to ascend

a long, winding path, very steep, very rough, and very lonely, leading up a wild and desolate glen. The savage and awful grandeur of the scenery, with its bare hills and rocks, is hardly equalled in this country. But if the traveller goes up that glen on foot (and it is hardly possible to go up it otherwise), his appreciation of the scene around him is gradually overborne by the sense of pure physical fatigue. Not without a great strain upon limbs and heart can that rugged way be traversed. At last you reach a ridge whence the road descends steeply on the other side of the hill. You have ended your climbing, and you may now begin to go down again, from whichever side you come. And there, at this summit, you will find a rude seat of stone, which bears the inscription, in deeply-cut letters, REST AND BE THANKFUL. Many

weary travellers have rested there: let us trust that a good many have been thankful.

We all know that the like name has been given to more than one or two like resting-places; that it is borne by various seats, at the top of various steep ascents in this country. There is something pleasing, and something touching, in the simple natural piety which has dictated the homely name. He was a heathen who said it, but he spoke well who said, "Wheresoever man feels himself in peace and rest, let him think of God, and give thanks to Him." I have no doubt at all that St. Paul would have heartily approved that inscription in Glencroe, and would have felt that there is something to warm the heart when the solitary traveller finds in that lonely place, without a human dwelling or a human being near, the brief reminder of the presence and the goodness of Him who is present as much in the wild waste as in the peopled city, and from whose mercy all our blessings come, whether small or great: from the few minutes' breathing-space in the Highland glen, up to the last unspeakable gift of His Son to die for us, and His Blessed Spirit to sanctify and console. For you see the comprehensive duty which is enjoined in the few words of the text. The great Apostle would impress upon those Christians of Colosse, who have ceased from their work and warfare through so many centuries now, how many things those should seek to do who trust they are 66 risen with Christ." There is

a long list of Christian duties in this chapter in which the text stands. There is sketched out a character and a life which, if manifested and led by all who bear the Christian name, would make this world a very holy and a very happy place. St. Paul tells the Colossians how they ought to "set their affection on things above"; how they ought to mortify the evil impulses of a fallen, though renewed nature, putting off anger, malice, falsehood, and every evil word and deed, and putting on the new man, in which God's holy image is restored. He bids them put on, as becomes the elect of God, mercy, kindness, humility, meekness, long-suffering: he bids them forbear and forgive, even as the kind Redeemer forgave : he bids them put on charity, as a robe that should take in every Christian virtue and grace: and he bids them let God's peace rule in their hearts. And then, like a link in this golden chain, like a cope-stone on this beautiful structure, comes the short text with its wide and large meaning: which tells us of one pervading principle and affection which should leaven the believer's whole heart and life; which reminds us how there should go with him, everywhere, the deep sense. that there is an unseen hand that gives him all he receives; the deep sense that he is a weak, dependent, undeserving creature, meriting so little and receiving so much; "loaded with benefits," "prevented with the blessings of God's goodness;" remembered with "compassions that fail not," but are new every morn