deep, it is true, but they were only narrow, and the gate of the city of which he was henceforth to be an abiding citizen could be distinctly seen beyond them.

Let us bear in mind one fact, namely, that the designs and purposes of providence have rarely, if ever, their final issues and consummation in this life. It is strange how persistently we try to evade this truth, manifest as it is, if the theories of the Christian religion have any foundation in fact.

We can trace the course of Providence through gloom, and darkness, and sorrow, and adversity, providing we can find a safe and happy issue from them. We can understand that the adversity, and bereavement, and afflictions of Job were providentially ordained, because we see him outliving them all, and living again in the enjoyment of greater prosperity, social pleasures, and health. But had Job never risen from the dunghill upon which he lay lamenting his losses, had he died under those sad circumstances of sudden poverty and bereavement, we should have felt ourselves justified in regarding his case as belonging to those mysterious dispensations of providence which, when doubt and unbelief enter our minds (and they often do) lead us seriously to consider the question, whether after all there is a providence or not. Scepticism seems to be natural to the human mind. It often leads us to doubt the truthfulness of truth itself, and often shows itself in our vain efforts to invest the shapeless, misty fantasies of error with the forms and attributes of reality and life.

If the writings of scripture are true as an exposition of the practical lives of the patriarchs, prophets, and apostles, we must say that they did indeed walk by faith rather than by sight; and however much brighter may be the dispensation under which we live, such faith and such lives of faith would indeed be marvels in our day. That faith which is "the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen," has but a slow and imperfect development in these times. The tall and stately cedar of Lebanon, for want of proper cultivation and care, has degenerated and become dwarfed and stunted, presenting in its deformity and weakness a pitiful contrast to its former strength and beauty. The great cry of the present day is for proof. Nothing short of an indisputable logical deduction, or an unmistakeable mathematical demonstration will satisfy the keen-eyed, matter-of-fact men of an age like this. And even these are counted as nothing when they oppose themselves to the pet notions of some philosophic minds. The Bible itself is not true, because it is not corroborated by science; and science is not to be depended upon, because its facts bear testimony to the truth of the Bible! Such, at least, seems to be the teaching of some wise men; and a kindred spirit of unbelief seems to be creeping into the church.

We

An assumption may be correct and a statement may be true, as logical deductions from certain premises; but if the premises be false, the deductions made from them will also be false. become in our daily contact with the world so closely associated with its natural objects, that it is difficult for us to realise that they are not substantial and abiding. We have to learn many hard lessons before we can know that "the things which are seen and temporal" are nothing better than illusive shadows; while the "6 things which are not seen and eternal" are the only true realities. And hence it is that we so often fall into the error of presuming that God's care over and his dealings with his people have an almost exclusive reference to this life; and any deductions from such premises will necessarily often be contradicted by fact. We are, however, pleading for the doctrine of Divine Providence in relation to the affairs of this life, and at the same time trying to show that what may sometimes seem to us to be a break in the chain is nothing of the kind, but merely a point beyond which we cannot trace a certain or probable result in harmony with our own ideas of what should be.

In the varied circumstances of life there are many things which must necessarily be matters of faith, since we cannot reduce them to the category of known and demonstrated facts. Indeed, the whole theory of Divine Providence presents itself to us as an appeal to our faith; and a well grounded belief exercises an influence in our minds and over our lives as great, if not sometimes greater, than actual knowledge. This appeal is made upon the testimony of the truth of revealed religion, verified and illustrated by the facts of experience. To show us how closely God looks into and superintends the minutest circumstances of our lives, we are told that the very hairs of "our head are all numbered." To assure us still further, we are commanded to "behold the fowls of the air," which although "they neither sow, nor reap, nor gather into barns," are still fed by our heavenly Father; and to "consider the lilies, how they grow," which, though they toil not nor spin, possess a grace and beauty with which "Solomon in all his glory" could not compare. If the birds of the air, which have neither barn nor storehouse, are fed from day to day, is it likely that we shall be left to starve unnoticed? If the "grass of the field" is so richly clothed, is it likely that we shall be left in unprotected nakedness to face the pitiless winter's storm? Such are the queries which are suggested, and which a moment's thought will enable us to answer. We can understand that it would be in perfect harmony with the majesty and greatness of God, by the operation of some general law to supply the wants of his creatures; and we can easily conceive it possible that he might, under special circumstances, condescend to open his hand, and to scatter manna around a mul

titude of weary famishing travellers in the desert. But when we are told that that same God, who hears the sharp screams of the young ravens when from their neglected nest in their wilderness home they cry to him for food and feeds them, exercises a continual care over each of us individually, and will listen to and regard the voice of our supplication, and will answer the cries of our distresses with compassionating help, it is almost too much for our faith. We are naturally led away by the appearance of greatness, and hence we look for our illustrations of the power and majesty of the Creator in the more imposing objects which he has made, forgetting that he who built the world, and laid the foundations thereof, and rounded it in the palm of his hand, has also delicately formed each blade of grass and each blooming daisy that covers and beautifies its hills and dales; that the beautifully tinted tulip is a work from the pencil of the same artist, and as much a marvel of his skill as the more imposing picture of the nightly sky; that the modest violet springs up in the shadow of the neglected hedgerow at his bidding, just as much as the stars of the firmament in their journeyings obey his command.

We stand, so to speak, upon the separating line between the two universes, that of inconceivable greatness and that of inconceivable minuteness; each presenting a sphere of contemplation which we cannot study without feelings of wonder and awe. The microscope is not less startling in the revelations which it makes than the telescope. The stars of heaven and the countless multitudes of animalcula which find an ample world in a single drop of water have each received their being from the same power, and are each sustained and upheld by the same strong arm. If, therefore, when we contemplate one part of God's creation we conclude that we are far too insignificant for his notice, when we study another part of his works we may just as reasonably infer that we are far too great to be the objects of his care; and a moment's thought will suffice to expose the fallacy of any such conclusions. That what we accustom ourselves to speak of as dark dispensations of Divine Providence have a purpose of infinite mercy and love in teaching us how to fulfil the duties of our present position of responsibility and trust, as members of one common brotherhood, and by preparing us for the holier pursuits of a higher life when our present mission is ended, is clearly taught in the word of God, and verified and illustrated by the facts of experience. Before we can teach others it is necessary that we should learn for ourselves. Before we can offer sympathy and consolation to the suffering and the sorrowful we must ourselves have had some experience in like sufferings and

sorrows.

"He that would work for man

Must understand humanity,
And work humanely."

And whatever knowledge of human nature we may obtain from a study of others, the deeper mysteries of humanity can only be made known by a knowledge of ourselves; and what unlooked-for secrets has the hour of trial revealed in the depths of our own hearts? What arrogant pride in our boasted humility; what miserable weakness in our vaunted strength; what contemptable meanness in our fancied honour; what rottenness in our imagined soundness; what exclusive selfishness in our kindest charity. Truly there is nothing like trial for giving us, in an exposure of ourselves, a knowledge of our common humanity; and there is nothing like such knowledge for giving us both the capacity and the disposition to act humanely. God has not given all of us the means to do great things; but if we have learned to feel a deep and heart-felt sympathy with the suffering world around us, he has given us a power which, if rightly directed, will enable us to accomplish results far beyond the reach of the rich man's gold. And when the purposes of his providence have their final issues and consummation in the eternity to come, we shall find that the work of grace, wrought in our own hearts by that same process of trial and sorrow which taught us those lessons of sympathy and forbearance for others, has a rich inheritance of glory for ourselves. In the mean time let us remember, for our consolation, that he who is our great example did not shrink from learning for himself those same lessons of suffering and sorrow, for "in all things it behoved him to be made like unto his brethren, that he might be a merciful high priest in things pertaining to God, to make reconciliation for the sins of the people; for in that he himself hath suffered, being tempted, he is able to succour them that are tempted."

Just another thought, and then we will bring our remarks to a close. Let us not for one moment suppose that the Christian doctrine of providence is in the slightest degree allied to the misguiding falsehoods of fatalism. The one is an error calculated to fill us with misgiving and despondency; but the other a truth, which, if we truly espouse, will certainly inspire us with high hope and dauntless courage. The theory of the one is, practically speaking, do nothing, and you will be sure to be right, "for what is to be will be," and so you may save your labour. The theory of the other is, do with all your might that which your own conscience tells you it is right to do, remembering that the smile of heaven comes much more frequently as a blessing upon your own efforts and in answer to your own prayers than as an unexpected good for which you have neither prayed nor laboured. But you may wrong sometimes even when you try to do right. So you may; and it is better that you should do wrong a thousand times through an earnest effort to do right than that you should never do wrong because you do nothing. Let us be careful not to fall into another

do

error, and make God's providence an excuse for our own follies; make foolish mistakes ourselves, and then take the credit of having been frustrated in our designs by a providence upon which we had not calculated. There is a hill of difficulty in every one's journey of life, and there is no going round about to avoid it-climb it we must; but if we choose to go trespassing in "bye-path meadow," because the proper road seems to be a little rough and uneven, and in consequence find ourselves safely lodged in some dark dungeon in doubting castle, we have ourselves to blame for that. Let us not lose heart, however, for God in his providence often saves us from the consequences of our own folly, and makes that to be an inestimable blessing which we may look upon as the great mistake of our lives. Whatever may be our position, however closely we may be imprisoned with circumstances which suggest nothing but despair, however isolated may be our lot, however cheerless our prospect, however forlorn our hopes, let us always remember that "there is the same broad sky over all the world, and whether it be blue or cloudy the same heaven's beyond it," and to that heaven let us hopefully and trustingly look up, remembering that there is our court of appeal against the wrongs and injustice we may have to bear, there our strength and shield in the time of weakness and danger, there our sure guide when we "walk in darkness and have no light," there our supply in the season of adversity and want, there our Friend when all other friends forsake us, there our safe and peaceful refuge when our outward foes combined with our inward fears drive us before them as their sport and prey, there that gracious Providence whose care is ever over us, whose arm is ever around us, who works out for us each step in the pilgrimage of life, and whose voice, if we willingly listen to it, we may always hear saying to us, "Fear not, I am with thee; I am thy shield, and thy exceeding great reward."

W. B.

ART. II.—MUSIC: ITS USES, SECULAR AND SACRED.*

USIC is not the product or privilege of man exclusively. Before the existence of the human race music existed. When the foundations of the earth were laid, "the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy." And as music is coeval, 80, we may venture to affirm, it is also coextensive with the universe. The heaven of heavens overflows with melody. Guided by analogy,

Substance of a Lecture.-EDITOR.

C