THE ONLY RESOURCE. of the bridegroom, and a voice of the bride; a voice of them that shall say God is good, and his mercy endures for ever." (Jer. xxxii. 11.) This is the gospel, and you see that there is nothing in it but joy and gladness. The gospel is a salutation of love, of the sweetest love; it holds forth bosoming lovethat is, marriage love. "A voice of the bride and the bridegroom," saith the text; that is, the strongest love-glorious love. It holds forth love not to last for a little while, but to last as marriage loveMercy enyea, to last longer then that can do. during for ever," saith the text, which is rich and glorious, that will hold its strength and warmth; it is a breast and bosom worth the being in-that will never be cold. THE FOLLOWERS OF BALAAM. BALAAM was convinced-stopt with a drawn sword from heaven, and yet wonld on; the ass could not go, and yet Balaam would. God lames and slays things under us, that we ride with our affections like mad men, and yet we have no mind to alight and come off them: things we dote upon, God, by some stroke or other upon them, makes them speak in our conscience like that ass to Balaam. Why wilt thou on, O my soul, any farther this way? Death 467 is before thee, the sword of God's displeasure is drawn, and at thy breast because of this wicked motion. Stop, sinner, now, stop now cast thine eye another way towards Christ, and see what is in himtaste how good and gracious he is. No, I will not; I will have the other bout; I will spur a little farther, and see to the utmost, if I can curse Israel, and get that great pay proffered. There is a perfection of misery as well as of felicity; and this forementioned is it: when a sinner will pursue his sin to the utmost, go to the end of long-suffering, then wrath comes inevitably upon him, and to the utmost; when the man says that his sin shall outlive every object, ere it shall cease, and rides every horse to death, to fetch and find out pleasures to keep his lust alive; then God says that this lust shall outlive the man too, and then it outlives all indeed, when the soul is rid to death. As there is a never pardoning of sin till the soul die, so there is a never subduing of sin (for these are necessarily subordinate) till the soul die-never a taking off the love of sin from the soul, till the soul grow sick and die in love.-Lockyer. THE ONLY RESOURCE. (Being the Experience of the Rev. J. Hervey, Author of Meditations, &c.) I NOW begin to see I have been labouring in the fire, and wearying myself for very vanity, while I have attempted to establish my own righteousness. I trusted I knew not what, while I trusted in some imaginary good deeds of my own: these are no hiding-places from the storm-they are a refuge of lies. If I had the meekness of Moses, the patience of Job, the zeal of St. Paul, and the love of St. John, I durst not advance the least plea to everlasting life on this footing. But as for my own beggarly performances, wretched righteousness, gracious adorable Immanuel! I am ashamed, I am grieved, that I should thrust them into the place of thy divine, thy unconceivable precious obedience! My schemes are altered; I now desire to work in my blessed Master's service; not for life, but from love. I believe that Jesus Christ, the incarnate God, is my Saviour: that he has done all I was bound to per form, and suffered all that I was condemned to suffer; and so has procured a full, final, and everlasting salvation for a poor condemned sinner. Now if at any time I am fervent in devotion, seem to be in a gracious frame, or am enabled to abound in the work of the Lord, I endeavour to put no confidence in these bruised reeds, but rest upon the Rock of Ages. Not in these, blessed Jesus, but in the robes of thy righteousness, let me be found, when God calls the heavens from above and the earth, that they may judge the people! When, on the other hand, I feel myself most deplorably dead and deficient, when I am apt to sigh for my unprofitableness, and cry out with the prophet, "My leanness, my leanness!" I no longer comfort myself with saying, "Be ye of good cheer, soul; the Lord only requires sincere obedience, and perhaps to-morrow may be better than to-day, and more abundant in the work of holiness." Jesus is now become my salvation, and this my song in the house of my pilgrimage: "Why art thou cast down, O my soul? though im perfect in thyself, thou art complete in the Head; and though poor in thyself, thou art rich in thy divine Surety." The righteousness of thy obedience, O Lord, my Redeemer, is everlasting. If overtaken by sin or overcome by temptation, I dare not, as formerly, call to mind my righteous deeds, and so think to commute with divine justice, or to quit scores for my offences by my duties. I do not ease my conscience; or, to be reconciled to God, promise stricter watchfulness, more alms, and renewed fastings. No; in such circumstances, O my soul, turn neither to the right nor to the left, but fly instantly to Him whom God has set forth to be a propitiation; hide in his wounded side and be safe, wash in his streaming blood and be clean." THE FAMILY. It is not more true that the infant brood grows to the power of caring for themselves in the nest, than that men are formed into the habits of life in the family. It is the earliest, cheapest, safest, and mightiest institution for this purpose. Hence it is the special object of assault from the gathering hordes of disorganizing reformers in our day. On every side, under the guidance of the St. Simons, Fouriers, and Owens, we hear the outcry against the domestic temple, "Raze it, raze it, even to the foundations thereof." Ignorant of the true sources of pauperism and oppression, our puling pseudophilanthropists are in perpetual agitation about the wrongs of labour, the rights of women, and the reconstruction of society. "Association," such as they propose, would pluck away the hearth-stone and break the marriage-ring. Forgetful of the homely sentence, that the largest house is not large enough for two families, they would take down all partitions, throw a whole community into one, cashier the natural guardians of infancy, and subject masses of youth, in phalanxes, to the regimental drill of a newly-invented education. As bubble after bubble explodes, d successive prophets of Socialism fall into deserved contempt, it is hoped that the world will become satisfied with the constitution which dates as far back as Paradise.-Rev. J. W. Alexander. "MY SON, GIVE ME THINE HEART." Is it a wicked heart, and a wandering heart, an unbelieving heart, a deceitful heart? Is it the heart of Manasseh in compact with Satan? Is it the heart of Mary Magdalene, out of which were cast seven devils? Is it the worst heart in all the world, and the worst heart that ever was in the world? A hard heart, a stout heart, a stony heart, a heart full of hell, and a heart like the devil? It is even the heart that He is seeking and courting this day. He engages to give you a new heart and a new spirit; and, if you sign his engagement with your heart, saying, Content, Lord, he will make your heart to his mind by degrees; and your heart shall be according to his heart. What, say you, is that possible, that he is courting such a heart as mine? Would it not be presumption for such an one as me, vile, filthy, black, and ugly me, to trust for so much good at the hand of such an one as Christ? What, man!-when God calls, is it presumption in you to answer his call? No; it is the greatest presumption in the world to set his call at naught, and refuse his kind embraces, when he offers to take you into his very heart. When Christ offered to wash Peter's feet, O did it not ill become him to say, "Lord, thou shalt never wash my feet?" (John xiii. 8.) Be your feet ever so dirty, and your heart ever so black, you have the more need to let Christ wash you.-Ralph Erskine. TEMPTATION. THAT temptation that at first is but a little cloud as big as a man's hand, may quickly overspread the whole heaven. Our engaging in sin is the motion of a stone down hill-" it strengthens itself by going," and the longer it runs, the more violent. Beware of the smallest beginnings of temptation. No wise man will neglect or slight the smallest spark of fire, especially if he see it among barrels of gunpowder. You carry gunpowder about you-oh take heed of sparks.-Flavel. THE TOLLING BELL. I CONFESS (said a faithful servant of God) that I seldom hear the bell toll for one that is dead but conscience asks me, What hast thou done for the saving of that soul before it left the body? There is one more gone into eternity; what didst thou do to prepare him for it? and what testimony must he give to the Judge concerning thee?-Baxter. TO BE WITH CHRIST. "FATHER, I will that they also, whom thou hast given me, be with me where I am, that they may behold my glory." (John xvii. 24.) To be "with me where I am," there is distance removed; to "behold my glory," there is darkness removed. Darkness and distance now create doubts and fears; but doubts and fears will then take wings and fly away, never to return again; for the face of the covering shall be entirely removed.—Ralph Erskine. THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. 469 THE HIGHLAND KITCHEN-MAID: AN INCIDENT IN THE LIFE OF MR. HECTOR M'PHAIL. BY THE REV. T. M'KENZIE FRASER, YESTER. Our story, however, dates far on in the month of May, a few days before the meeting of the General Assembly of the Scottish Establishment, to which Mr. M'Phail was proceeding, as a commissioner from the Presbytery of Chanonry. Travelling at the rate of from thirty to forty miles a-day, his journey would occupy a full week, and would frequently oblige him to pass the night in the then by no means comfortable inns upon the Highland road. It will not surprise any of my readers to be told that it was Mr. M'Phail's invariable practice to hold family worship in these houses, and to insist upon the attendance of every individual inmate. Resting one night at a little inn amid the wild hills of Inverness-shire, he summoned, as usual, the family together for devotional purposes. When all had been seated, the Bibles produced, and the group were waiting the commencement of the devotions, Mr. M'Phail looked around him and asked whether every inmate of the house were present. The landlord replied in the affirmative. THERE is scarce a single district now-a-days, shepherd or the cotter that knew it not, as he saw Highland, Lowland, populous, desert, bare, by the moonbeam's light its white form move or beautiful, through which we cannot find a across the moor? And how many a night has cheap and speedy means of transit. We have its weather-beaten rider been forced to throw our omnibuses, mails, and stage-coaches, for the the reins upon its neck, and to screen himself road; passage-boats for our canals; steamers for with his well-worn cloak against the pitiless our lochs and ferries; and last, speediest, and fury of the storm, while neither pelting sleet in the end cheapest of all, the railway locomo- nor drifting snow could blind the sharp eyes of tive dashes on, shot-like, on its iron pathway, his little steed, nor hinder it from bearing its hurrying us through mountain and rock, across sainted burden to the door of his moorland river and valley, alike over moor-land and home! meadow, through the city and the field. It was not so, however, in the days of good old Hector M'Phail, still the unforgotten pastor of Resolis. Stage-coaches, canal-boats, steamers, and railways, were alike unthought of in those latitudes and times; so that, however long and tedious the journey, however desolate and dangerous the roads, in the still comparatively lawless state of the Highland district,* Mr. M'Phail's only resource was his shaggy little white steed, the close companion of his apostolic wanderings. O that faithful little bearer of the remarkable 'man of God, what a wondrous biography must it have had! How many a weary mile had it cheerfully trudged on its master's almost endless messages of mercy and love! Where is the moor or mountain of its native Ross of which the solitudes, however lonely, have not been trodden by its trusty feet? Even the bleak Slochd-muic, from whose dark and frowning precipices the eye of my own childhood turned shudderingly away as I asked of her who sat beside me, "Is this the old world, mama?"even it, though buried deep in the gloomy glens of Badenoch, had echoed to the patter of its weary tread. To how many a fervent prayer, unheard by human ear, has it been called to listen! How many a dialogue, to be remembered throughout eternity, has its sagacity occasioned between its votarist master and a fellow-sinner! How many are the hours of searching self-examination, or silent study, or close communion with its master's God, that had been spent upon its back! Where was the The date of our story cannot have been much later than the memorable '45. "All?" again inquired the minister. 66 "Yes," answered the host, we are all here; there is a little lassie in the kitchen, but we never think of asking her in, for she is so dirty that she is not fit to be seen." "Then call in the lassie," said Mr. M'Phail, laying down the Bible which he had opened; "we will wait till she comes." The landlord apologized. The minister was peremptory. "The scullery maid had a soul, and a very precious one," he said; " if she was not in the habit of being summoned to family worship, all the greater was her need of joining them now." Not one word would he utter until she came. Let her, then, be called in. The host at length consented; the kitchen girl was taken in to join the circle, and the evening worship proceeded. After the devotions were concluded, Mr. M'Phail called the little girl aside, and began to question her about her soul and its eternal interests. He found her in a state of the most deplorable ignorance. "Who made you?" asked the minister, putting the usual introductory question to a child. The girl did not know. "Do you know that you have a soul?" 66 No; I never heard that I had one. What is a soul ?" "Do you ever pray?" I don't know what you mean." "Well, I am going to Edinburgh, and I will bring you a little neck-kerchief if you promise to say a prayer that I will teach you; it is very short, there are only four words in it- Lord, show me MYSELF;' and if you repeat this night and morning I will not forget to bring you what I have promised." The little kitchen-maid was delighted; a new piece of dress was a phenomenon she had rarely witnessed. The idea was enchanting; the condition was easy; the promise was given with all the energy of young expectancy; and Mr. M'Phail, after explaining, no doubt, the meaning and force of the prayer, retired to rest, and next morning resumed his journey. My object is not to write a life, either in whole or in part, of Mr. M'Phail, otherwise it might be interesting to ascertain the precise date of his journey, so as to discover the character and proceedings of the Assembly in which he sat. Every one, however, must be aware that the visit of a Ross-shire minister to the metropolis is a sort of triennial era, even in these days of easy transport. Call this, and commission that, have to be executed; and, if one be known to possess the least degree of the obliging in his character-satagit rerum-he has his hands full. Nevertheless, Mr. M'Phail did not forget the Highland inn and its little menial; but, relying upon the fulfilment of her promise, purchased the trifling present that was to make her happy. Again, then, we accompany the devoted minister to the wild mountains of Badenoch, and at the close of a mild June evening reach the lonely Highland inn. The white pony, now sleek and shining with metropolitan fare and a whole fortnight's idleness, is safely housed, and 66 He was conducted to a hole beneath the stairs, where the little creature lay upon a straw bed, a picture of mental agony and spiritual distress. 'Well, my child," said the amiable man, affectionately addressing her, "here is the neckkerchief I have brought you from Edinburgh; I hope you have done what you promised, and said the prayer that I taught you.” "O no, sir, no, I can never take your present; a dear gift it has been to me: you taught me a prayer that God has answered in an awful way; He Has shown me myself, and O what a sight that is! Minister, minister, what shall I do?"* I need not say how rejoiced the faithful man of God was to see that the spirit of Jehovah had been dealing with this young soul, and that, although still operating as a "spirit of bondage" in the production of a true though partial and imperfect faith, there were yet such hopeful signs that, ere long, He would exhibit himself as "the Spirit of adoption," generating in her heart a full and perfect trust, and leading her to cry, "Abba, Father." But how reconcile such an experience with the strange opinion which denies to the Holy Ghost any special agency in conversion, giving to each of the human race a certain modicum of influence, to be communicated only through the medium of the Word? Whence had this child derived, in the course of little more than a fortnight, and through the use of such a prayer, this experimental acquaintance with her own heart, far deeper and more correct than the author of the "Tv auToy" ever attained? Read the Word she could not; sympathy of feeling in the careless household was out of the question; * Of course, the conversation is to be understood as having been carried on in Gaelic. This will account for the correctness of the language used by the little girl, for in Gaeli not even a child commits a grammatical error. THE RIGTHEOUS HAPPY IN LIFE, &c. whence, then, that mysterious ray which all at once illumed the darkened chamber of the soul, and as it shot its clear strong light through the once benighted understanding, exposed in all its barrenness the deformity of SELF? It was the SPIRIT OF GOD that wrought independently of the Word, and coming into "warm contact" with her living soul in a manner altogether special, and hitherto unknown by herself or a carnal world. It was "the Spirit of Truth, whom the world cannot receive, because it seeth him not, neither knoweth him: but she knew him, for he dwelt with her and was in her." On no other principle can we account for the fact, that one, but a few weeks ago so totally ignorant that she had asked "What is a soul?" should now have been able to pursue that most difficult and severe of all subjective mental processes-the reflex inspection of self. Now, this is no fictitious case got up for the occasion; 'I tell but what was told to me;" but who that reads it can deny the absolute necessity of a special agency and a personal and immediate indwelling of the blessed Spirit sent forth into the soul in answer to the prayer: "Lord, show me myself?" After some further conversation, Mr. M'Phail opened up to the distressed girl the great gospel method of salvation, and closed the interview by recommending the use of another, and equally short and comprehensive prayer: "Lord, show me THYSELF." Next morning the minister was once again on his way to his still distant home. But he had "cast his bread upon the waters;" did he ever "find it again after many days?" Many years had passed since this memorable journey, and the vigorous and wiry minister, who could ride forty miles a day for a week without intermission, was now become an old and feeble man, worn out in his Master's service, scarcely any longer "spending," because already "spent," for Christ. One day his servant intimated that a stranger was desirous to speak with him. Permission being given, a respectable matronly woman was ushered into the study, carrying a large parcel in her hand. "You will scarcely know me, Mr. M'Phail," said the person, with a modest and deferential air. The minister replied that he certainly did not recognise her. "Do you remember a little scullery maid at inn, in whose soul you once took a deep interest upon your journey to Edinburgh ?” Mr. M'Phail had a perfect recollection of the events. 471 "I was that little girl; you taught me two short but most expressive prayers. By the first I was brought to feel my need of a Saviour; by the second I was led to behold that Saviour himself, and to view Jehovah in the character of a reconciled God and Father in Christ. I am now respectably married, and comfortably settled in life; and although the mother of a numerous family, have travelled far to see your face, and to cheer you, by telling with my own lips the glorious things which, by your means, the Lord has been pleased to do for my soul." Before parting with Mr. M'Phail she entreated his acceptance of the parcel she carried,| which contained a large web of linen of her own spinning, made long before, for the purpose of being presented to the blessed and beloved old man, should she ever be permitted to see his face in the flesh once more. She lived for many years, not only a consistent character, but an eminently holy Christian. Fain would I add a few of the many reflections which this striking anecdote has occasioned me. But I am not preaching a sermon, I am writing a simple story. Yet one short question to the reader ere I close. Friend, hast thou ever seen THYSELF? Has the hideous pollution of thy inner SELF ever been disclosed to thee in but a tithe of its real intensity and guilt? If not, thou hast never felt thy need of a Saviour from sin, and we have yet to begin with thee at the very starting point of experience, and to teach thee the prayer: "Lord, show me MYSELF." THE RIGHTEOUS HAPPY IN LIFE, AND BY THE REV. JOHN FAIRBAIRN, ALLANTON. "THE fear of the Lord is the beginning of wis- ner in which man thinks and acts and lives in |