fulness? The voice of a great multitude, as the voice of many waters, and as the voice of mighty thunderings, will be in our ears. But the eye of all the seed will be fixed on the Lamb Himself; on Him, whom not having seen, they have loved; on Him, whom the hope of seeing on that day, has enabled them to rejoice even in this pilgrimage of tears, with joy unspeakable and full of glory.

What need will there be of a glorified body, to enable them to sustain the sight; what need of a spirit made perfect in holiness to comprehend the beauty; what need of an undoubting, simple, and true love, to admire the Wonderful, the Redeemer! How can mortal flesh contemplate such a scene! Were not the very Judge Himself, the Lamb that has been slain, what flesh would not perish away from the presence of his holiness!

And the Judge ;-when we try to apprehend what his feelings may be at that solemn hour, which shall reap and gather in the souls of uncounted multitudes, we cannot. He is far above, out of our sight. Yet the Scripture reveals to us glimpses of his views. He will then reap that fruit for which He made his soul an offering. His pleasure shall then prosper. He shall see of the travail of his soul, and shall be satisfied. He has borne the sins of many, and made intercession for the transgressors; and here, at last, assembled before Him, are they for whom He suffered, for whom He interceded, and who are to dwell with Him for ever. Shall He, the holy one, be satisfied? Ah, what manner of persons must we be in all holy conversation and godliness, that He may be satisfied!

The harvestman has toiled through the spring and summer; when the ingathering arrives he is glad, and when it is completed he hails it with a shout of joy. He is satisfied, because his object is attained; he hath sown, and he hath reaped and gathered into his barn. So will it be, if we may venture on the analogy, with the Lord. His harvest has come, his angels have reaped, and He is gathering to Himself, all those who love Him and whom He loves. Let us tremble, while we rejoice at the remembrance of his holiness. He must reign till He hath

but all enemies under his feet. He must complete and fit together the glorious building, fixing each living stone in its appointed place, esteeming each precious as it has become a temple of the Holy Ghost; and with this glorious edifice, He is satisfied. M. G. L. D.

FOURTEENTH WEEK-MONDAY.

CONCLUSION.

HAVING, in unfolding the Sacred Philosophy of the Seasons, conducted the reader through the various departments of Nature, and directed his attention to the evidences which they every where display of the presence and operations of a Father-God, I feel unwilling to take my leave of him without a few parting words.

We have examined together a most wonderful and very peculiar system, in which there is a continual mingling, or alternation, of light and shade, of beauty and deformity, of good and evil, of pleasure and pain,—a system obviously inconsistent with the absolute perfection of the Eternal, except it be taken in connexion with the Gospel of Him who has brought life and immortality to light. Were it not for a display of the Divine character, and a declaration of the Divine will, so explicit and satisfactory, yet so amazing to the intellect, and so humbling to the pride of man, I know not that the studies in which we have been mutually engaged would be either agreeable or profitable. There would have been much, indeed, to astonish and to interest; but still more to perplex, confound, and baffle the human mind. Philosophers, by the mere light of their science, have in vain attempted to reconcile the appearances of Nature with the existence and moral government of an infinite Creator. They have been able neither to explain the existence of evil; nor yet to agree among themselves as to the foundation of morals; nor to throw any clear and convincing light on the future destiny of the human race.

We have had many ingenious palliations of evil, and beautiful theories of morals, and sublime speculations on the immortality of the soul; but, when the mere Natural Philosopher looks abroad on the face of Creation, and endeavors to verify these views by induction from the appearances around him, he utterly fails. After every concession, and notwithstanding every hypothesis, the naked facts remain incontrovertibly the same. Physical evil, moral evil, universal change, universal decay, universal death, these are the appalling laws of Nature. Do they indicate the character of Nature's God? The Philosopher of Nature has no satisfactory reply. He may abstract himself from the world of sense, and wrap himself up in the sublime reveries of Plato, or he may seek for the supreme good in the indulgences of Epicurus, but he will find himself, in either case, warring against Nature, and substituting imagination for reality. If he become a disciple of the more rational Bacon, and yet, unlike him, reject revealed truth, he will discover in the Inductive Philosophy only a confirmation of all that is mysterious, inexplicable, and awful in his anticipations. The more minutely and assiduously he questions Nature, the more deeply he will find himself bewildered in an inextricable maze of darkness and of doubt.

But ask the Christian philosopher, Do the appearances of Nature indicate the character of Nature's God?" Yes!" he replies, "but not without the aid of another and clearer index of the Divine Mind, derived from the express declarations of revealed truth." Here is light directly from heaven; which, mingling with the light reflected from the works of creation and providence, displays the character of the Eternal, in all its majesty and beauty. Whatever the Supreme Self-existence may be to other worlds, in the globe which we inhabit He is Governor of fallen and guilty creatures, whom, by the discipline of his Providence, He is training for immortality in a vale of tears, amidst vicissitude, decay, and sorrow. His unseen hand is guiding his wayward offspring through the wilderness. He directs them by his Revealed Word, as He formerly directed his chosen people by a pillar of fire and of cloud

They must follow at their peril. They may, indeed, turn aside and be lost; but all means, consistent with the liberty of rational beings, are employed to lead them to a land of peace and of happiness. He has sent his own Son to be the Captain of their salvation. He is always ready to shed on their hearts the comforting and sanctifying, the enlightening and exalting influences of his Holy Spirit. If they accept these Divine aids, their affections are raised' above the world, while they mingle with its affairs. Their treasure is in heaven, and their hearts are there also. They are not, indeed, exempted from the common lot of humanity; but "all things work together for their good." Disappointment, grief, bereavement, death itself, are but instruments in the hands of a Divine Father, by which the child of Adam is moulded into a child of God; while the enjoyments of life, varied, deep, and intense, are but faint anticipations of a joy which shall never end.

Such is the sublime and unspeakably interesting conclusion, to which all my labors have tended in the work now brought to a termination. To myself the employment has afforded many happy, and, I trust, not unprofitable hours, in the contemplation of the combined wonders of Nature and of grace. To expatiate on the perfections of the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, is indeed the most animating, the most edifying, the most ennobling of all employments; whether we see his hand engaged in carrying on the great scheme of his Providence on earth, or in crowning the whole by the glories of heaven. Reader! may your eyes be opened to trace that hand! may your heart be enlarged and delighted in the contemplation of these perfections! may your soul, purified by Divine love, be prepared for the enjoyment of these glories! And may the writer, directed by the same hand, prepared by the same influences, and washed in the same blood, meet you in heaven!

END OF ‘AUTUMN.'