the abstemious mode of living to which the people were accustomed, in the less frequented parts of the country. The food upon which he subsisted in the wilderness appears to be particularly mentioned, merely to show that he fared as the poorest of men, and that his manner of living corresponded with the meanness of his dress. Much unnecessary pains have been taken by some squeamish writers, to prove that the locusts which John used for food, were the fruit of a certain tree, and not the carcase of the insect distinguished by that name; but a little inquiry will fully clear up this matter, and show, that however disgusting the idea of that kind of meat may appear to us, the orientals entertain a different opinion. Many nations in the East, as the Indians of the Bashee islands, the Tonquinese, and the inhabitants of Madagascar, make no scruple to eat these insects, of which they have innumerable swarms, and prefer them to the finest fish. The ancients affirm, that in Africa, Syria, Persia, and almost throughout Asia, the people commonly eat these creatures. Clenard, in a letter from Fez, in 1541, assures us, that he saw waggon loads of locusts brought into that city for food. Kirstenius, in his Notes on Matthew, says, he was informed by his Arabic master, that he had often seen them on the river Jordan; that they were of the same form with ours, but larger; that the inhabitants pluck off their wings and feet, and hang the rest at their necks till they grow warm and ferment; and then they eat them, and think them very good food. A monk, who had travelled into Egypt, asserts, that he had eaten of these locusts, and that in the country they subsisted on them four months in the year. In Bushire, they are used by the lowest peasantry as food. The people about the Jordan, and in the mountainous parts of Arabia and Persia feed on them to this day, and prepare them for use in the following manner :-They grind them to flour in their hand mills, or pound them in stone mortars. This flour they mix with water to the consistency of dough, and make thin cakes of it, which they bake like other bread on a heated girdle; and this, observes Hasselquist, serves instead of bread to support life for want of something better. At other times they boil them in water, and afterwards stew them with butter, and make a sort of fricassee, which has no bad

taste.

The locust is employed in the book of Revelation, to symbolize the countless and savage hordes that fought under the banners of the Saracen princes :-' And there came out of the smoke locusts upon the earth, and unto them was given power, as the scorpions of the earth have power, and their torment was as the torment of a scorpion, when he striketh a man, and the shapes of the locusts were like unto horses prepared unto battle; and on their heads were, as it were crowns of gold, and their faces were as the faces of men. And they had hair as the hair of women; and their teeth were as the teeth of lions. And they had breast-plates as it were breast-plates of iron, and the sound of their wings was as the sound of chariots of many horses running to battle. And they had tails like scorpions, and there were stings in their tails,... and they had a king over them.' This remarkable comparison is almost in every particular quite familiar to the Arabs. Niebuhr, in his description of Arabia, informs us, that an Arab of the desert near Bassorah, mentioned to him a singular comparison of the locust with other animals. He regarded it as a jest of the Bedouin, and paid no attention to it, till it was repeated by another from Bagdad. He compared the head of the locust to that of the horse; its breast to that of the lion; its feet to those of the camel; its body to that of the serpent; its tail to that of the scorpion; its horns to the locks of hair of a virgin; and so of other parts. It has been remarked by almost every one who has paid attention to this branch of natural history, that the head of a locust bears a striking resemblance to that of a horse.

Accoutered for war, and mounted by a stern and bearded warrior, the Arabian charger has a majestic and terrible appearance; not less dreadful to the inhabitant of the East, is the locust, in all the vigor of youth, ready to commence his destructive march, The Saracen furnished his horse with a silver bridle, and gilt trappings, and covered his neck and breast with plates of iron; it is, therefore,

K

not improbable, that he adorned his head with some ornament resembling a crown, to which the horns or antennæ of the locust may not improperly be compared. The neck of this formidable insect is also defended by a hard scaly substance, in the same manner as the neck of the Arabian war horse was defended by plates of iron. The Arabian horse is carefully taught to recognize his enemy in the field of battle, which he no sooner does, than he rushes upon him with the utmost violence, and attempts to tear him in pieces with his teeth. The teeth of the locust are very sharp and strong. With what astonishing rapidity this insect devours every green thing, and scatters desolation over the fairest regions of the earth, has already been described; from whence it appears, that the comparison of the Saracen horse to the locust is by no means inapplicable. Nor is the sound of their wings less remarkable; the inspired writer says, the sound of their wings was as the sound of chariots of many horses running to battle: ' and travellers have stated, that the passage of the locusts over their heads was like the noise of a cataract, or the rushing of a violent gale of wind at a distance.' PROFESSOR PAXTON.

PLAIN THOUGHTS ON LONG PREACHING.

MUCH has been said concerning the means proper to be used to promote the prosperity of the work of God amongst us, but more has been spoken in private of the evils which have contributed to prevent this most desirable of all objects. Now, if the preventives can be ascertained and removed, much will be done towards forwarding the interests of our Association.

Among the many things which I have heard spoken of as detrimental-" long preaching" has been most frequently mentioned."

It is thought that, if our preachers were to determine upon preaching shorter sermons, and carry such determination into effect, thereby affording more time for singing and prayer, and thus restoring the rule laid down by our venerable founder Mr. Wesley, and pursued by his immediate successors, much would be done towards securing such prosperity as signalized Methodism in its earlier days. It is further thought that the evils attendant on long preaching are not sufficiently considered, otherwise the practice would immediately be discontinued.

It is true, few are willing to think or speak of that of which they are faulty, and which they find difficult or inconvenient to overcome. But when soberly reflected upon, and ingenuously admitted, the fault is likely to be discontinued. Now I know of no fault which prevails to a greater extent, of one to which preachers are more generally liable. I know of none which they more reluctantly acknowledge. This may be owing, in a great measure, to the length of sermons occasionally preached or read by extraordinary men. Long sermons must not, however, be preached, on ordinary occasions, if soul saving be the object of the preacher.

How many are the evils consequent on long preaching? Lessons must be omitted-hymns contracted, and prayers made brief; and though these are not all the mischiefs attendant on long preaching, these surely are sufficient to show that the practice is an evil. I know not that the injury done in every way by such practice can be known or calculated. The preacher, by attempting to introduce all the text suggests, wearies both his mind and body. His mind in preparing for the pulpit, and both these in submitting to his congregation all he has prepared. The memory by such practice is overburdened-fails; and that which was designed to enlighten and improve, is submitted hurriedly and inaccurately. Sermons calculated to do the greatest good should be short, perspicuous, and powerful. A discourse which is too long, by twenty minutes or half an hour, will fail in producing good results. The last twenty minutes does

the mischief. Such a practice will destroy the usefulness of the best of men. It has been said of the late laborious John Smith, that had he avoided this practice, the church had still, most probably, been favoured with his ministry. How many of the plans and efforts of our prayer leaders, have been disorganized and destroyed! How often has the table of the Lord been deserted! How many of our prayer meetings which should have been held after preaching have been ruined! How few have been our conversions on the Sunday evenings! How few brought to God and heaven! Only imagine you see the preacher after a long and tedious service on a Sunday evening. The clock has just struck eight-the congregation is crowding towards the doorsthe preacher desiring most earnestly the salvation of souls, takes his stand below the pulpit, singing, with scarcely any help, wearied and broken-hearted. See him left almost alone-his earnest entreaties and appeals unheeded; is manifested by the departure of his congregation. His sermon may have charmed and amazed, yet the people cannot remain to join in prayer; domestic duties require them to return home. Hence, after a disappointing prayer meeting the preacher goes to his home with his spirit grieved; and the night and day succeeding are required to remove the sadness of his spirits!

all this

Through the frequent interruptions of the service on the Sabbath morning by the late attendance of some hearers, the first part of the service is, in many cases, productive of little good; and if the former part of the service be protracted, the latter part as a consequence is gone through with very little effect. Now, especially, a short lively sermon is required, that the remaining part of the service may be attended with that united hearty feeling, which attracts the soul and produces feelings of the sweetest kind. Now, if ever, the panting of the church in its body entire should be felt and seen. But how impossible in cases of long preaching. It is not difficult to conceive, that where there is a lively, spiritual, judicious ministry, young persons, and persons of mature life will resort; until by degrees a love is felt for the preacher and place, which terminates in a union with that church. O that every preacher may be wise to win souls. !

A. GILBERT.

EXTRACTS FROM THE NOTE BOOK OF AN
ITINERANT PREACHER.

WE have experienced, for some weeks, a succession of heavy gales from the south and south west. The sea, driven before the whistling blast, rolls upon our rockbound coast in swift impetuous billows, and then checked by massive abutments of solid rock, divided by projecting fragments, or tortured by a complete chevaux-de-frise of broken points, dashes into the coves, or rushes up the steep cliffs one mass of milk white foam, while a part, as if indignant of repulse, springs high in air, and portions caught by the wind are borne aloft, and falls along the hills like flakes of snow.

It is a sight of sublimity! but ah! those billows war not alone with these old weather-beaten rocks; not far from the spot on which I recently stood, fragments of planks riven, and shattered, lodged in crevices, and on ledges of the rock, proclaimed that some vessel had been wrecked. Alas! too true the testimony-a sloop had been driven upon the rocks, and is now broken up and all her crew lost. The captain of the wrecked vessel, was a member of the Wesleyan Association, as is also his now bereaved widow. A short time since, on a Sunday afternoon, I preached to the congregation with which they were accustomed to worship, she was there, the sad intelligence had not arrived, it came that night.

I have just returned from the house of mourning. O how painful to enter

that abode of sorrow! The bereaved (a young and interesting woman, with two small children, but in a delicate state of health, now cast without earthly protector on the stream) sat the picture of distress-the pallid face, the swollen eyes, the chest heaving with sighs that seemed too big for utterance, told how nature reeled, and the spirit writhed beneath the blow. Memory pictured alas! too faithfully, her husband's life of kindness, and his last fond farewell; too vividly it painted the scene when, just about to sail, he had knelt down to pour out his prayer to heaven, and to commend her to the Almighty's care.

The storm in which he had perished aroused her fears-sleep forsook her eyes-alone she had listened to the ravings of the tempest, and heard alone the shriek of the blast, what she at least believed to be the destiny of her drowning husband; ere the day dawned she had trodden with trembling limbs the wet sod of an elevated grassy platform, or walk, which looks upon the harbour, and catched a glimpse of the distant sea, and tried to catch a glimpse of the Wand A, but alas-no!

It was the Sabbath, she tried to shake off the impression, but it clung to heryes, even in the house of God-that night the sad tale was told-though dreaded, if not expected; the shock was great-was overwhelming. Nature gave way-fit followed fit-and then recovered consciousness was evidenced,

by the cry, "And is it possible! Am I a widow!" till nature sunk again.

As it was the second day after, when I was again in the neighbourhood, and saw her, her grief, though more deep and settled, was less passionate. She remarked, when an allusion was made to the distressing circumstances in which she was left, "I should suffer as much were I in a palace, with £20,000 a year."

Amidst her distress, however, I may add, she submitted to the rod, and to Him who had appointed it, and remarked, that she had passed through much trouble, but this stroke was necessary to the completion of the work of grace in her soul.

I endeavoured to administer consolation, and offered prayer in her behalf to Him, who alone could bind up her broken heart, then left the house with a mind solemnly influenced, yet somewhat lightened of its load.

O how uncertain is the tenure on which life is held; surely vanity, and man are one! How suitable to man the prayer, "So teach me to number my days, that I may apply my heart unto wisdom."

And O how inexpressibly valuable is piety! How cheering the hope, that to our brother the yawning wave was the portal of life eternal. That hope, thrice blessed, chases the gloom from the brow of all who knew him, and whispers to our sorrow, "Sorrow not as do others who have no hope."

BETA.

DEFENCE OF THE ASSOCIATION.

TO THE EDITOR.-DEAR Sir,

PERMIT me to call the attention of our ministers and friends in all the circuits, of the Wesleyan Methodist Association, to the recently published Letter of the Rev. R. Eckett to the Rev. W. M. Bunting, of the Conference Connexion, as it contains most important documentary evidence, proving that the laws enacted by the Conference of 1835, are most satisfactory reasons for the establishment of the Wesleyan Methodist Association. I must confess that I had began to despair of the appearance of Mr. Eckett's long promised publication, and much regretted the delay, therefore I cannot but rejoice that special circumstances has led to its publication. The reading of Mr. Eckett's letter has certainly produced in my mind unmixed satisfaction, for the part I took in the formation of the Association; and I am also greatly delighted with the admirable spirit in which the Letter is written.

My object is to induce the friends in all our Circuits to purchase copies for gratuitous circulation amongst those persons who may be unwilling to purchase, or are unable; and also for presentation to dissenting ministers, who may be under mistaken views respecting our principles, calculated; as I firmly believe this Letter is, to give stability to many wavering minds in our Connexion. J. W. GREAYER.

THE WORLD.

THE world! the world! 'tis all title page! there's no contents. The world! it all depends on a foolish fancy. The world! it is all deceit and lies. The world! it is all vexation-in getting, in keeping, in losing it; and whether we get or lose, we are still dissatisfied. The world! a very little cross will destroy all its comforts. The world! 'tis only a tedious repetition of the same things. The world! will yield us no support or consolation when we most want it, i. e. in the horrors of a guilty mind, and in the approaching terrors of death. The world! is unsuited to the godlike powers, infinite passions, and immortal capacities of a soul. The world! is fickle, variable, and unstable as the wind; 'tis always fickle, always changeable, always unstable; there is no stedfastness in its honours, riches, pleasures; 'tis all a lie, all a lie for ever. The world! it never satisfies; we ever wish for change, whether we are high or low, rich or poor; we are always wishing for some new variety, to cheat the imagination; the witchcraft of polluted pleasure decays in a moment, and dies. The world! its pleasures are exceedingly limited, and under most painful restraints, attended with bitter remorse, and followed with a horrible dread of bad consequences; the pleasures of impurity are mixed up with cursed disgusts and self-loathings, and have most dreadful damps and twinges of mind when the momentary witchcraft of pleasure is gone for ever.

SELF KNOWLEDGE.

Ryland.

SELF Knowledge was considered, even by unenlightened heathens, as so indispensably necessary, that it was a motto engraved on one of their temples, Know Thyself. Thus they made the stone cry out of the wall, to every one who entered, that without this important acquisition, he was a vain worshipper. How many professed Christians are there, who may well blush at this relation, as they have never reckoned the knowledge of themselves a matter deserving their attention; nay, are there not multitudes, who industriously avoid the investigation of their own hearts? The greatest part of professors are as averse to look into themselves, as if the sight of their spiritual plague would increase their malignity. They are as much afraid of being jealous of themselves, as if it were the greatest sin they could be chargeable with; as if a persuasion of the goodness of their own hearts, were the only faith the Gospel required. We see many as reluctant to fulfil the counsel of the prophet as good Hezekiah, by setting their houses in order, and settling their worldly affairs, as if it would hasten the stroke of the King of Terrors. But thousands are overcome by a far more destructive folly. They are as much afraid of inquiring into the state of their hearts, and endeavouring to have them set in order according to the Word, as if a doubt of their salvation, even while continuing in sin, would certainly expose them to eternal destruction. Is it a very bad sign of traders when they are afraid to look into the state of their worldly circumstances? Surely, then, if persons constantly avoid the exercise of self-examination, it is a decisive evidence that they are in a state of bankruptcy for eternity. A man's wounds must be noisome indeed, if he cannot bear the sight of them, if he be afraid of his own company; and he must be deeply confirmed in the most deplorable state, who will rather turn his eyes any way than to the plague of his own heart. But all such pretended Christians have the same inscription on their hearts that Paul observed on the Athenian altar, "To the unknown god:" and they will ever continue to worship him ignorantly, till they become better acquainted with themselves.-Jamieson.