THE trial of friendship is by finding what others will do for us, but the trial of faith is by finding what we will do for God. Το trust Him, when we have the securities in our iron chest, is easy, and not thankworthy; but to depend upon Him for what we cannot see, as it is more hard for man to do, so it is more acceptable to God when done, for in that act we make confession of his Deity. All men will be Peters in their bragging tongue, and most men will be Peters in their base denial, but few men will be Peters in their quick repentance.

When we meet with calamities which force us to let go our hold of God or ourselves, then it is we see to which our souls will cleave the fastest. And of this trial excellent is the use we may make. If we find our faith firm, it will be to us a perpetual banquet,-if we find it wavering, knowing our weakness, we may strive to strengthen it with a stronger nerve; so that faith ever is either the assurance of our happiness or the way whereby we may find it. Without this confidence in a power which is always able to aid us, we wander in trouble and in doubt. Infidelity is the cause of all our woes, the ground of all our sins. Not trusting God, we disquiet ourselves with fears and solicitudes; and to cure these, we run into prohibited paths.

Owen Feltham.

"To believe with the heart" is to believe in such a manner as to engage the affections and to influence the actions. This sincere faith, carrying the believer to obey God and Christ, as far as he is able, is called "the obedience of faith," and "the righteousness of faith." Also, because God, for the sake of Christ, will count this kind of faith to the believer for righteousness, it is called "the righteousness of God," the righteousness which God hath appointed for sinners, and which He will accept and reward.

Macknight.

I DESIRE no better warrant for drawing nigh to God, than that you [i.e. his sister] have. I want no other calls than those which lie at your door as well as mine. It is not because a more encouraging offer has come to me than to yourself, that I feel peace when you feel none. If there may be any difference it may lie in this, that I put the right interpretation upon the offer, and you are mistaking it. The truth is, that your great error lies in constantly ruminating upon the act of faith, when you should be looking to the object of faith; in making your comfort turn upon the question, "Do I believe?" when vou should make it turn upon the question, "Is God willing to receive me into friendship for Christ's sake ?" There may hang

a great doubt on the former question, when there ought to hang none whatever on the latter question; and if you would just dwell more habitually on the latter, it would bring you into a surer and speedier establishment of your peace, and, at length, make even the former question cease to be doubtful to you.

Chalmers.

OUR STRONGHOLD IN THE DAY OF TROUBLE.

"What time I am afraid, I will trust in Thee."

Is God for me? I fear not, though all against me rise;
When I call on Christ, my Saviour, the host of evil flies.
My Friend, the Lord Almighty, and He who loves me, God,
What enemy shall fear me, though coming as a flood?
I know it, I believe it, I say it fearlessly,

That God, the Mightiest, Highest, for ever loveth me.
At all times, in all places, He standeth at my side;
He rules the battle fury, the tempest, and the tide.

A rock that stands for ever is Christ, my Righteousness,
And there I stand, unfearing, in everlasting bliss;

No earthly thing is needful to this my life from heaven,

And nought of love is worthy, save that which Christ has given.
Christ, all my praise and glory, my light most sweet and fair,
The ship wherein He saileth is scathless everywhere;

In Him I dare be joyful, as a hero in the war,
The judgment of the sinner affrighteth me no more.

There is no condemnation, there is no hell for me,
The torment and the fire my eyes shall never see;

For me there is no sentence, for me has death no sting,
Because the Lord, who loves me, shall shield me with his wing.
Above my soul's dark waters his spirit hovers still,

He guards me from all sorrows, from terror, and from ill.
In me He works and blesses the life-seed He has sown,
From Him I learn the "Abba," that prayer of faith alone.

And if, in lonely places, a fearful child I shrink,

He prays the prayer within me, I cannot ask or think,—
The deep, unspoken language, known only to that love

Who fathoms the heart's mysteries, from the throne of light above.
His Spirit to my spirit sweet words of comfort saith,

How God the weak one strengthens who leans on Him in faith;

How He hath built a city, of love, and light, and song,

Where the eye at last beholdeth what the heart has loved so long.

And there is mine inheritance, my kingly palace-home,
The leaf may fall and perish, nor less the spring will come.
Like wind and rain of winter, our earthly sighs and tears,
Till the golden summer dawneth of the endless year of years.

The world may pass and perish, Thou, God, will not remove;
No hatred of all devils can part me from Thy love;

No hungering nor thirsting, no poverty nor care,

No wrath of mighty princes can reach my shelter there.

No angel and no heaven, no throne, nor power, nor might,
No love, no tribulation, no danger, fear, nor fight,
No height, no depth, no creature that has been or can be
Can drive me from Thy bosom, can sever me from Thee.
My heart in joy upleapeth, grief cannot linger there,
She singeth high in glory amidst the sunshine fair.
The sun that shines upon me is Jesus and his love,
The fountain of my singing is deep in heaven above.

Paul Gerhardt.

THE heart has its arguments of which reason knows nothing; we feel it in a thousand ways. It is the heart which feels God, and not reason. This, indeed, is perfect faith, God sensible to the heart.

Pascal.

STEP BY STEP.

WATCH a sculptor at his work. How slowly the results appear! You leave him unvisited for a week, and when you return, it needs a careful eye to see what he has done in the interval. Stay a few minutes, and mark how slight, how delicate, are the touches. And the more his mind is engaged and his heart interested, the more carefully does he work, pausing, now and then, to scrutinize the almost living form that grows beneath his chisel; then, again, improving what his practised eye can discover to be yet imperfect.

Such is also the painter's labour. Pictures painted for posterity are the labour of many a long hour, and are anxiously touched and re-touched with feelings akin to affection, till the canvas seems glowing with life and beauty; the result of countless imperceptible dashes of colour.

Art here, also, does but follow Nature-rather, let me reverently say, Nature's God. How are the pastures clothed with beauty? How are the waving corn-fields tinted with that rich hue that delights the farmer's eye? How does the young sapling, bending to every passing breath, grow up into the sturdy oak? How, again, is the vessel wafted onwards to her destined haven ? How are the treasures of the sky above replenished? A sudden storm, a sweeping rain, a sultry, scorching glare, these visit us at times, each for

its own appointed purpose; but their power and influence cannot be compared with the daily, hourly, instant effects of the gentle rain, the calm sunshine, the steady breeze. Pass through a corn-field, in the well-known stillness of a summer's noon; a flood of sunlight is around you, and each ray, if it could be distinguished, would be the antitype of the painter's brush, gilding the green ears with swarthy beauty. Cross a meadow, in an April shower; drops of rain that defy calculation are falling on as countless blades of grass; but each does its work, and the fields are made soft with showers-God bles seth the springing thereof. Or, after a sultry day, evening comes on -the tiny dew-drops gather on every leaf or blade; how silent, yet how effectual! The clouds need fresh stores; well, you cannot watch the process, of which you are yet perfectly conscious. Earth and sea yield back their waters, to be purified in yonder grand alembic, and to return, by and bye, in plenteous showers.

The hand of the Almighty seems to love such gentle, unobtrusive work; and the more we search out his wonders, the more we shall see to admire and adore in Him, who can not only "rule the great," but also "reach the small." The telescope reveals worlds upon worlds, till we feel lost. The microscope has equal wonders, for we find that a large portion of the earth is actually composed of animals, living or dead, in numbers as much beyond our grasp as the Milky Way itself.

Turn, now, to another of God's three Books,-the Book of Providence, his dealings with Man. There are times, when the Hurricane, the Earthquake, the Fire, find their counterparts. Saul of Tarsus bends to such an influence put forth in mercy,—Sodom and Gomorrah perish by such. At one time, a flood sweeps away the whole world of the ungodly; at another, the earth itself opens to swallow up his enemies. But these are his "strange works;" and they that would know most of what God does for men will find it not in the tempest, the earthquake, or the fire, but in the still small voice.

One there was, Divine in his nature, yet human, too, who prophetically declared the truth I am speaking of. As man, needing the aid of the Divine teaching (Himself both giver and receiver), He exclaimed, "He wakeneth (morning by morning), He wakeneth mine ear to hear as the learned;" that doctrine, or teaching fell like the gentle, noiseless dew, that light came down like the steady life-giving sunshine, and so He grew in wisdom and stature.

Dear reader, is not your experience somewhat the same? I do not for a moment deny, that many, like Paul, are stopped short in the broad path, and, as it were, led at once into the narrow way of life. Thank God, the past year has been rich in such cases. Yet, even

then, when the prodigal "came to himself," the precious influences that thronged around him were often OLD. The echoes of his Father's voice came back upon his ear and his heart. HE KNEW the familiar tone, though never yet had he yielded to it, and the change from death to life was A RESTORATION to the old home. How many have felt the same, recalling on a dying bed words that had been buried under a heap of miserable sins and follies!

And again, when the path is entered on-what are the influences most effectual? No occasional impulse-no sudden passing excitement-no; these may be sent in wisdom and in mercy, but the usual dealing is "morning by morning." It is the daily prayer, the daily study of God's Word, the daily communing with Him, the habitual share in the services of his house, the constant intercourse with his servants, and so WE GROW.

Christian teacher, apply this train of thought (as you can readily do) to your work. Next to your own constant growth in grace, of which I have been speaking, there are few things more useful for a New Year's meditation than the value of multiplied small efforts the power of multiplied gentle impressions. How many more triumphs would be won if the sanguine heart were to find its hopes always fulfilled! If one great effort would win a soul, who would not make it? But it is the patient continuance in well-doing that tries the teacher. What we need is the example of the sunshine and the rain, and the balmy breeze. How gentle such work, yet EVERY STROKE TELLS. Happy teacher that can thus plod on, with ceaseless prayer, ceaseless study, ceaseless teaching, content, though, day after day, the toil seems to yield no return.

There may, indeed, be times that call for special effort in our work; a scholar leaving for service-or some family troubles- -or some especial temptation-or even some painful exhibition of evil. These will come, and should be dealt with accordingly; but what I plead for is, that we should not, as it were, lie by for such occasions, but should strive to deal with our scholars as our Great Teacher graciously deals with us. Morning by morning, in ceaseless, patient, steady, unvarying love, He pleads with us, He guides us, He teaches us. May He give us grace to go and do likewise.

I. G. J.