magogue, infidel reformers who would rend to pieces the good old fabric of our Constitution, nor of those innovating prelates who would efface all the peculiar features of our venerable Church, and chase away the sentiments and very remembrance of our great Reformers from the land. The plans and pursuits of ambition, which lead many to shame and confusion, never tormented them. They are strangers to the entanglement of riches, and to the awful snares of power. They know nothing of that refined system of affectation and deceit which so often prevails in what is called genteel life. They lie down at night to sound and safe repose, neither fearing nor intending evil. They rise in the morning at peace with their neighbours, at peace with each other; and some of them, I trust, at peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. The family consists of an old man and woman, their son and his wife, and four grandchildren. Of the old woman, little can be said; she is an eccentric character, but an affectionate wife, and kind to her children and grandchildren. The old man is, I trust, really in earnest about his soul. He is of a cheerful disposition, and rises between three and four o'clock in the morning to his labours, and seldom reaches home before sunset; yet he told me, not long ago, that he has no rheumatism, and can go about almost as "lightsome" as ever. The son is an industrious, quiet fellow, inclined to seek the Lord, and very happy when surrounded by his parents, his children, and his wife. His partner is an interesting woman, humble, modest, pious, and sensible. She is of a delicate constitution, and often afflicted with sickness. The two eldest girls are under thirteen and twelve years of age; one of them is in my Sunday school, and the other in that which was established in the parish at a time when the school connected with the church unhappily fell to the ground. I scarcely know whether this should be called, "the peaceful," or "the happy," or "the contented," or "the affectionate family.” Notwithstanding all the trials which arise in their dwelling, they are affectionately united to each other; and if complete happiness cannot be said to crown their days, they certainly do enjoy peace, and feel no small share of contentment. I will tell a little tale or two relating to them, and then leave the reader to give what name he pleases to the cottagers in Ber dell. At rather an unusual hour, a few weeks ago, the old man, dressed in his clean white smock frock and oiled shoes, knocked at my door, and having gained admittance, thus addressed me: "Sir, I hope you will excuse my making so bold tonight; but I wish to leave sixpence for the poor heathen people." While he was getting the little sixpenny piece from the bottom of his pocket, he proceeded; "Only think, Sir, how the Lord favours us above all these poor souls in the dark parts of the world. Mercy on me, what a thing it is to think about! What sad things they do, and how they torment one another and themselves too!"" Yes, father; and once the people who lived in England were as ignorant of God, and as cruel to themselves and to each other, as what the poor heathens now are, to whom we are sending the Gospel. England was once as dark as Africa now is. Our forefathers lived without God and without Christ in the world." The old man paused awhile, put down his sixpence on the table, and then said, with much apparent feeling, 66 Mercy on me, Sir, I have been a poor blind, dark creature myself, for many a long year. Well, if I had been cut off some time ago, what would have become of me? I'm sure, Sir, I ought to do all the After chatting a little more on the subject of the heathen world and missionary concerns, I asked the old man how he and all the family went on at home. Why, to be sure, Sir, my old woman is a little crossish at times, but, thank God, we are pretty comfortable. Never had any poor man a better son than I have got: and there's that dear woman his wife, she is as good a creature as ever lived; there never was a pair more happy than they. It does my heart good to see it. And then there's that girl, Sir, that comes to your school; O that is a dear, good child! You can't think, Sir, what a girl she is for her book, and how nicely she talks and reads to me in the evening when she comes home from the lace-making school! Why, Sir, she wouldn't neglect getting her lessons and hymns for ever so much. I think she would do any thing rather than grieve you. She is a brave girl to be sure. The other is a good girl too, but she is very still, and does not say much." "Well, father, I am glad to hear that you are all so comfortable in the old cottage. I hope the children will continue to go on well. As to your daughter-in-law, I have always considered her a very worthy character. It is a great mercy, and must be a great comfort for you all, to live together in peace and love." Ah, Sir, that it is," said he, as he stretched his hand out and rested it half way on the table to wards me, and proceeded: "Now, Sir, I'll tell you what. You know that poor men have but short fare at times, and now and then my son is out of work for days and days 6 together; and his wife, you know, Sir, is very often a poor sickly body, and can hardly do for the children and him: so that at times, poor fellow, he goes out to work in the morning with only a small piece of bread. But then he won't take any more, for fear the children and their mother should go short. Now, Sir, when he comes home at night his wife will say, Well, my dear, how are you? I'm afraid you are very hungry.' O no,' he will say, 'I'm pretty well; how be you, my child? Because you know, Sir, she is a sickly body; and then when she is able to say that she is pretty well, why, Sir, that does him more good than a meal of roast meat would do. I'm sure there never was man and wife happier together in the world! Then she talks so nicely to us old folks. I'm sure some nights I lie awake for hours thinking about what you tell us at church. I wish I could get my old woman to mind these things a little more." 66 Well, father, you must pray for her, and be kind to her. You must set her a good example; and who can tell but the Lord may call her into his vineyard at the eleventh hour? His forbearing mercy has spared you both for many a long year, when neither she nor you had any concern whatever about your souls when you neither knew the way of salvation nor desired to learn it. I pray that the fear and love of Christ may possess every heart under your roof." As my presence was required elsewhere, I was now obliged to dismiss the old man with my congratulations that he was about to return to the bosom of at least a contented and affectionate family. His honest and undisguised tale afforded me much satisfaction, coming as it did on the back of a circumstance or two, which only a few days before had considerably interested my mind, and raised my opinion of his daughter-in law, and which I shall now just notice. It was on a Saturday, when I rode down towards the B- er dell, without any express object in view beyond that of enjoying the refreshment of a lovely forenoon and a salubrious air; but recollecting that my school-girl had been absent from her place both in the morning and afternoon of the last Sunday, I turned my pony's head towards her cottage, little doubting but that something more than usual had detained her at home. As I approached the cottage, I perceived the surrounding bushes here and there spread over with the usual articles of a poor man's linenchest. And on entering the door, I found the children's mother at her washing-tub, and my school-girl sitting in the chimney-corner, looking less ruddy than usual, and wrapped about and buttoned up to the chin in the grandfather's old great-coat. On my entering the cottage she blushed exceedingly, as she rose and made a hasty curtsey, and again seated herself. After inquiring into the health of the invalid mother, and how she managed to do the washing of the family, I turned to my school-girl, whose strange appearance, so unusual and so uncouth, at once surprised me, and, in defiance of all my efforts to preserve а grave countenance, made me more than smile at what I saw. 66 My child, what are you doing with that coat wrapped about you? really I hardly knew you." She again blushed a deep crimson, hung down her head, and remained silent. "Now do tell me why you are thus buttoned up to the chin in that old great-coat?" As the child still remained silent, the mother laid down the article she had been washing, and resting her left hand on the edge of her washingtub, while with her right she wiped off a tear which would start from either eye, she said, "Well, Sir, if I then must tell you, I must. But, Sir, I don't intend to complain; indeed I don't murmur. I know I have many mercies for which I ought to be thankful; but, Sir, my husband has been lately a good deal out of work, and as our weekly income is at best but scant, I cannot get what I otherwise would have for the children to put on; and as I do not like to see them untidy on the sabbath-day, I am obliged to make them strip off their frocks and a part of their things on Saturday, that they may be washed and fit to go to school in on the morrow. Sir, I do not murmur or complain; but this being the case, you now know the reason why - is wrapped up in her grandfather's great-coat. I fear it was in this way she took a cold last Saturday, for on Sunday she was too unwell to go to school, but I hope tomorrow she will be there again." This touching, unaffected tale, this unexpected explanation of the mother's, made me feel keenly both for her and for my school-girl. Nay, for some time it took away my utterance, and was well nigh making me betray my feelings as the mother had done hers. Up to that hour I had no idea of the real state of their domestic difficulties. The mother and her children had always appeared so clean and neat on Sundays, and whenever I met them in the village, that I had no conception of that real state of poverty with which they were silently and resignedly struggling, until this day's visit brought a part of it to light. I felt condemned for the lightness of my conduct, and was grieved that I had urged my inquiries so far. I feared that I had hurt the modest, delicate feelings of this amiable cottager, and for a while I almost wished I had passed the door without looking in. And still I should experience these feelings, did I not hope that the discovery of her real situation may, in the dispensations of Providence, 66 lead to some little relief of them. As the child still appeared to feel much embarrassment, I first addressed her, bidding her not to think her lot hard, since thousands of children were much worse off than herself. "As to the appearance of the old coat," said I, though it looks a little odd, yet, under the circumstances in which you now wear it, it is all very well. The blessed Saviour himself, when on earth, appeared as a servant; and St. John the Baptist had only the skin of a camel thrown over his shoulders, and buckled round him with a leathern strap or girdle. You may be certain, my child, that the Lord Jesus Christ is as ready to hear, and as willing to bless your soul when you pray to him in such a garment as this, as he would be were you clothed in purple and fine linen. Nay, if you do but continue to seek him, to love him, and to commit your soul into his hands, he will certainly one day clothe you with a robe of glory-with such a garment as no eye on earth ever beheld, and which none can wear but angels and happy spirits in heaven. As for myself, so long as you continue a good girl, I shall love you as much when clad in the old great-coat as in any other dress. The Lord himself looks not at the outward appearance, but at the heart; and his ministers are more desirous that their people should live well, than that they should dress well." While I thus talked to the child, the mother resumed her labours, and dropped many a tear on the clothes she was washing. They were not tears of vexation, nor of distrust, nor of earthly sorrow, but the salvation of her child lay near her heart, and the subject I had touched on was one which always beguiles her of many tears whenever it is brought forward. Nor is this a singular case. The loving-kindness of a covenant God, the tender mercy of Christ Jesus to guilty sinners, and the joys and felicity which are reserved for those that love him, are found to reach many a heart, and to call forth many a tear of mingled gracious feelings, as well on the mountain's brow as in Ber dell. To the weeping, yet rejoicing mother, I said but little at that time beyond reminding her, "that our present little difficulties and trials were not worthy to be compared with the glory which one day, we humbly hoped, would be revealed to us and in us; that these light afflictions, which were but for a moment, were capable, through grace, of working out for the soul a far more exceeding, nay, an eternal weight of glory." Thus we parted for that time; and it was not long after that the old man called with his sixpence for the missionary box, and told the tale of the contentment and happiness of his little household, of the affection of his son and daughter for each other, and of the dawning piety of my school-girl. "O blest retirement! friend to life's decline, Still cheer this household with thy peace divine; For blest are they who crown in shades like these A youth of labour with an age of ease; Sink to the grave with unperceiv'd decay, past." ALIQUIS. ESSAYS ON THE FIFTY-THIRD CHAPTER OF ISAIAH. ESSAY II.-THE MEANNESS OF CHRIST'S OUTWARD APPEARANCE. Isaiah, liii. 2.-For he shall grow up before him as a tender plant, and as a root out of a dry ground; he hath no form nor comeliness: and when we shall see him, there is no beauty that we should desire him. CHRIST crucified was to the Jews a stumbling-block: he was the true Messiah, but not such an one as they expected; they looked for a temporal prince, who should come and set up his kingdom with outward pomp and splendour; while Jesus appeared upon earth with great poverty and humility. Yet this was exactly what the prophets foretold; and had Jesus appeared otherwise, he would not have answered the prophecies concerning him. Here he is described, not as a plant of renown, but as 66 a tender plant, and as a root out of a dry ground." But blessed is he who shall not be offended in this meek and lowly Saviour; if only we can pierce through the outward veil of meanness and poverty, which concealed him from the unbelieving and carnal mind, we shall perceive, that however destitute of that external beauty which attracts and captivates the world, he was, in truth, "the chiefest among ten thousand, and altogether lovely." "He shall grow up before him as a tender plant, and as a root out of a dry ground." This comparison expresses the humble circumstances of our Lord's birth and family. The house of David, which had for many generations reigned over Judah, was at length reduced very low. Once it flourished as a stately tree with widespreading branches; but when Christ sprang from it, it was like a tree cut down to the stump, and only a few suckers, small and tender, growing out of its roots. Thus Jesus was to come from the house of David when it was in its lowest state of depression; and how exactly this was fulfilled the account of his birth as recorded from appears in the Gospels. Mary, our Lord's mother, was poor; Joseph, her husband, a carpenter; Jesus himself was reproached with the meanness of his family. They said, "Is not this the carpenter, the son of Mary, &c.?" Nay, our Lord himself declares, that he had not where to lay his head. was Again, when the house of David was in its prosperity, it was like a tree rooted in a rich and fertile soil; but when Jesus came of it, it as a root out of a dry ground;" or, rather Christ himself is the root: he is called, 66 a root of Jesse" (Isaiah, xi. 10; Rom. ́xv. 12); and "the root of David" (Rev. v. 5); for, in and through him as a root, the whole house of Jesse and David were preserved. It was for the sake and on the account of Jesus, that the house of David ever existed. Christ is, as it were, the root and foundation of that royal house, and of all the blessings, both temporal and spiritual, which belonged to it. He is the "root and offspring of David" (Rev. xxii. 16), David's Son, and David's Lord; but he came out of a dry ground in circumstances of great outward poverty and meanness. In this manner, then, the Lord Jesus was to grow up: he was to grow up" before him," that is, before the Lord. It was God's purpose, appointed and settled in the counsels of the Most High, that the Messiah should grow up in this obscure and humble manner. For wise and holy reasons, He who was "in the form of God, and who thought it not robbery to be equal with God," was to take our nature with every possible hu |