which he doth not qualify. Though a sincere humble man (as all ministers should be) may and should think little of any measure he hath, whether compared with the greater measures of others, or considered with regard unto the weight and worth of the work; yet there must be some confidence as to his competency, for clearing a man's call, 2 Cor. iii. 5, 6. What this competency is, is not easy at all times to determine. Singular necessities of the church may extend or intend this matter of competent fitness. But in general there must be, 1. A competent knowledge of gospel mysteries. 2. A competent ability of utterance to the edifying of others. This is aptness to teach, required of the apostle in 1 Tim. iii. 2.; and Titus i. 9, that a minister be able, by sound doctrine, to exhort and to convince gainsayers.

(4.) The savour of a man's ministry on the hearts and consciences of others, both ministers and people, helps much to clear a man's call. So that indeed ordinarily a man can never be so well confirmed in the faith of his being called to God, until he make some essay in this work. Deacons must first be proved, 1 Tim. iii. 10; much more ministers. A single testimony given by ministers and Christ, that the word dispensed by the man is savoury, and hath effect on the conscience, is a great confirmation; especially if sound conversion of some follow his labours. That is indeed a seal of his ministry, 2 Cor. iii. 3, and 1 Cor. ix. 2.

3dly, Take heed unto thyself, that thou be a lively thriving Christian. See that all thy religion run not in the channel of thy employment. It is found by experience, that as it fares with a minister in the frame of his heart, and thriving of the work of God in his soul, so doth it fare with his ministry, both in its vigour and ef

fects. A carnal frame, a dead heart, and a loose walk, makes cold and unprofitable preaching. And how common is it for minis ters to neglect their own vineyard? When we read the word, we read it as ministers, to know what we should teach, rather than what we should learn as Christians. Unless there be great heed taken, it will be found, that our ministry, and labour therein, may eat out the life of our Christianity. Not that there is any discord betwixt them; but rather a friendly harmony, when each hath its place and respect. The honest believer meditates, that he may excite his grace; and ministers too often meditate only to increase their gifts. When we preach, the sincere hearer drinks in the word; and it may be we seldom mix faith with it, to grow thereby. O how hard is it to be a minister and a Christian in some of these acts! We are still conversant about the things of God; it is our study all the week long. This is our great advantage. But take heed to thyself, lest ordinary meddling with divine things bring on an ordinary and different impression of them; and then their fruit to thee, and thy benefit by them, is almost gone, and hardly recovered.

4thly, Take heed unto thyself in reference to all the trials and temptations thou mayest meet with. Be on your guard, watch in all things, 2 Tim. iv. 5. No men are shot at more by Satan than ministers, and he triumphs not more over the foils of any than theirs. And Christ is liberal in his warnings of dangers, and in his promises of help in them.

2. The second word in the text to this purpose of directing ministers how to be useful to others, is, Take heed unto thy doctrine. Art thou a minister? Thou must be a preacher. An unpreaching minister is a sort of contradiction. Yea, every sort of preaching is not

enough; thou must take heed unto thy doctrine what it is.

Here is a warrant for studying what we are to teach, and what we have taught people. But the great matter is to take heed, or study aright. Students commonly need little direction about ordinary study. But concerning the doctrine, I shall entreat to take heed unto it in these things.

1st, Take heed unto thy doctrine, that it be a divine truth: Let a man speak as the oracles of God, 1 Pet. iv. 11. And therefore it is needful that ministers be well acquainted with the Holy Scriptures. A bad token of the temper of that man that relishes any book more than the word of God. The world is full of books written on pretence and design to explain the Scriptures; and men's studies are full of them. There is also a blessing in them, and good use to be made of them; but also a bad use is made of them. Many ministers have found, that they have preached better, and to more profit to the people, when they got their sermon by meditation on the word, and prayer, than by turning over many authors. From this neglect of the word also come a great many doctrines, that are learned by man, and borrowed from philosophy; which though they may have some truth in them, yet since it is divine truth that a minister should bring forth to the people, he should not rest on such low things.

2dly, Take heed unto thy doctrine, that it be plain, and suited to the capacity of the hearers. Learned preaching (as it is called) is a vanity, pleasing principally to such as neither design nor desire edification. True godly learning consists in preaching plainly; and therein is no small difficulty. Two things would help to plain preaching. 1. Clearness of knowledge. The alleged depth of our doctrine often proceeds from our

own darkness. 2. Humility and self-denial. We must not seek ourselves, nor the applause of men; but God's glory, and men's salvation. It is found, that the holiest ministers preach most plainly, and the plainest preachers are most successful.

3dly, Take heed unto thy doctrine, that it be grave, and solid, and weighty; sound speech that cannot be condemned, Tit. ii. 8. Deep and weighty impressions of the things of God upon a man's own heart, would greatly advance this. A minister's spirit is known in the gravity or lightness of his doctrine.

From the Evangelical Magazine.
STANZAS
Occasioned by the laying of the founda-
tion stone of a new chapel at Hadleigh,
Suffolk.

Great Architect of earth and heaven,
To thee be grateful anthems given,

For mercy, truth, and grace!
To swell the incense of thy praise
This stone we lay, these walls we raise,—

Our humble efforts bless.

O Thou, before whose throne on high
Ten thousand burning seraphs vie
In ecstasy and love!
Vouchsafe thy suppliant saints to hear;
Their gifts accept, their spirits cheer,

With blessings from above!
Although in temples made with hands
Thou dost not dwell-yet o'er all lands

Presiding thou art felt;

And where thy people meet for prayer
Thy Spirit dwells, thy grace is there,
To cancel human guilt.

Here, as revolving years decline,
As wild winds sleep, and planets shine,
As seasons fade and bloom,

Let the sweet plants of heavenly grace
Warm'd by the "Sun of Righteousness,"
Diffuse a rich perfume.

Here let successive ages rise

To chant heaven's sacred melodies,
And gaze upon thy throne;
Let visions of celestial light,

And pleasures fraught with pure delight,
To guilty man be shown.

Here let the hungry soul be fed
With living streams and living bread-
The balm-distilling sound
Of mercy!-let it triumph here,
Console the heart, entrance the ear,
Heal every mental wound.

May angels tune their harps anew,
In Zion's holy courts to view

Repentant sinners pray!
May heaven's ethereal portals ring,
The church on earth new pæans sing,
To hail Messiah's sway!

"Thine is the kingdom," Lord, we own!
The blessings of thy grace must crown
All human toil and care;
At thy behest the tear-drops start,
Thy grace subdues the stubborn heart,
And prompts the humble prayer.

Here, then, display thy healing might,
Thy saving strength, thy Spirit's light,
Thy peerless glory show;
Accordant voices then shall raise

"So Tibni died, and Omri reign'd!" "Tis thus the word of life,

In one brief sentence, tells who gain'd
A crown with dust and slaughter stain'd—
Who perished in the strife.

And thus beside the victor's wreath
Is dug the warrior's grave;
One hour he proudly scours the heath,
The next, is buried deep beneath
A mountain of the brave.

But there's a war which Christians wage,
In which no blood is shed;

A strife which wakes no murd'rous rage,
A wreath which blooms from age to age,
Upon the victor's head.

And all that stainless wreath may win,
Who act the warrior's part;
And but with humble faith begin
The strife with doubt, and self, and sin-
The warfare of the heart.

Good soldiers they, and sure to gain

The crown for which they toil; Since He who leads the valiant train, Himself has trod the battle-plain,

And borne away the spoil.

On, onward then, ye chosen few!
To you this hope is given-
That, while you keep your prize in view,
The glorious path you now pursue
But terminates in heaven! H. E.
Edinburgh.

THE EXPULSION OF MAN FROM THE GARDEN.

"So he drove out the man.'

ESSAY V.

In our last essay we beheld our great parent reclining on the couch of innocence. He is here fleeing from the presence of his Maker, awed by the flashes of justice. An important event has taken place. The chain of which we spoke has been snapped, and its links are lying in heaps, at the feet of Him

who shivered it to pieces. Angels use it no more as a line, by which to find grots of verdure, in the rural sea of Eden. They come indeed midway betwixt heaven and earth, and look sternly down as they search for its fallen links. They await orders to fix the sword nigh to the tree of life, turning itself every way with a motion fierce and glittering..

Man is expelled. The flowers fade, and the walls built of foliage droop. He calls to the flocks, but

the flocks keep browsing, heedless of his voice. He calls to the herds, but they only turn with unmeaning gaze. The animals all feel that the chain of obedience is off their necks; nor will tasselled horn, or the sound of a wreathed shell, bring back the wanderers at night. Man hears the roar of the lion, and all the beasts tremble at the loud mandate of their king. "By one man sin entered into the world, and death by sin; and so death passed on all men, for that all have sinned." Man felt now the necessity of rearing altars. In imagination we behold the mound of turf, and the lamb just browsing amidst cowslips, decked with cypress leaves. Our sire is the priest, and Eve the priestess. Its fleece is empurpled. "Woman, said a traveller, is the same kind and gentle creature, whether she dwell in tropical or polar lands;" but here her milky hands are red with the blood of sacrifice.

The story of man's expulsion is soon told. But we shall connect with this event some general views of the fall of the world. It is an important inquiry, how far the human mind was affected by the fall. There is even now a busy employment of the intellectual powers, and an indestructible process going on in the minds of men. Bacon has led all the sciences out of the house of Egyptian bondage. Locke has classified all the departments of the understanding. Newton has turned the prism far and wide, revealing the secrets of light. Cook has circumnavigated the globe; and Columbus found a new world. Architecture has reared its domes, and the pencil has revelled in ten thousand pieces of woodland scenery. Philosophy has been taught by the brook of Ilyssus, and lawgivers have flourished on the banks of the Tiber. Constitutions have been settled, and the wheels of government been made to revolve. Commerce

has stretched its sail, navigating all seas, and sounding all oceans. But men may display genius, and yet be exiled from the presence of

their Maker. It does not take away from the total depravity of Napoleon, that the black tempest of his deeds was streaked by intellectual light. Was there no intellect displayed at the straits of Thermopylæ, in the plains of Marathon, or by the rocks of Uri? Yet the fall has left a large portion of happiness in the world. Many pleasurable emotions rise in the hearts of even irreligious men.

These emotions often arise from the cultivation of letters, and improvement in the arts. When improvement is passing over the face of a country, and the wilderness disappears under the woodman's axe, the heart of the irreligious man overflows with joy. There is one obvious reason why these things give less pleasure to a true Christian, than to an impenitent man. The one seeks all his sources of happiness in this life, while the other views the advantages of time, through a softened medium. Over the world, Providence exercises a constant sway. He sees that it takes its daily rounds among his complex systems. This Providence is often mysterious. It may preserve the guiltiest mariner from the deep, and the guiltiest soldier in the battle. It may turn the tide of affairs, and shower wealth on the lap of pride, and pour it lavishly over the bosom of ingratitude. It may not prevent the infidel from acquiring renown, nor plant barriers before the footsteps of the ambitious conqueror. But these displays of goodness involve man in great responsibilities. Though the world be fallen, our Creator is still ruler among the nations; and to him it must be reconciled, or by him it will be subdued.

The transaction which terminated in the overthrow of the world,

was a great moral transaction, between man and his Maker. It was intended to bear on the established innocence or guilt of the whole race. Our disordered affections, our depraved will, our blinded conscience, all arose out of the fall. This transaction was of a publick nature. If ever man sustained publick relations, he sustained them, with whom our race took up its line of march. The fall affected every thing in this world. The earth was no longer to bring forth spontaneous herbs and fruits, but to be subdued by the rugged arm of strength. This event brought man into misery, and the world into condemnation, yet the world is under the same obligation to be a holy world, as before it fell. But on what proofs do we build the belief that the earth is in a lapsed state? The Scriptures continually give this view of the world. They contain no one disclosure suited to a world of innocence. If this world be not lapsed, there is a virtual impeachment of the Divine attributes. Some believe that the fall itself casts a reflection on the Divine perfections, but those perfections are far more seriously impugned by the present aspect of the world. In creation we should expect in every thing a display of the skill of the Creator, and so far as the material frame work of nature may be concerned, this skill has been displayed. But if any thing be capable of demonstration, it is this-that the world in its present disordered state, with all its guilty inhabitants, could not be the production of a mind infinitely wise. But we say he created it pure, and stamped it all over with his own loveliness; and that the fall stripped it of its moral investiture. He set it fast upon the basis of his own holiness, but sin has moved it away from its rightful foundations. Sin could not have sprung from the Creator, for that would have been to blot away his

own authority. But let us further judge the world by its history. We can easily determine from the history of any particular tribe or nation, what has been its general character. It is not difcult to tell whether we read of a people ferocious, or a people devoted to the arts of peace; whether we read of the intrigues of cabinets, or the innocence of pastoral life. If some mighty event has not jarred the earth, we should suppose that the record of its transactions would be a record, that might, by its loveliness, challenge the broad vision of the Seraphim. But let the history of the world be spread out, before the Seraphim, and how quickly would they overwhelm the disgusting recital, by the thunder of their astonishment. History can do nothing more than present an indistinct outline of the transactions of men. It cannot enter deeply into secret motives. For this reason, the muse of history is so often commending actions, when if we could see the corrupt motives from which these actions have sprung, we should be amazed at our own admiration. Look at the deeds of war. Here we behold men, fashioned out of the same clods of the valley, arrayed in opposing ranks. Here a smiling village is laid in ruins, there the conflagration sweeps down the huts of the poor. Yonder prowls the savage with his poisoned arrows; the country bleeds in its bosom, and mourns on its borders. But the victor is regaled by the thunder, of applause, and borne along environed by the flourish of trumpets, and the blast of the clarion.