We read that she often sought Him, and even interrupted Him in the business of his ministry, being overwhelmed with anxiety and fear on account of her Son! Finally, we read that, when his disciples had forsaken Him and fled, his mother remained by Him at the foot of the cross, constant even in death, and refusing to desert her Son in the midst of infamy, and humiliation, and torment. In the love, therefore, that we bear a mother-in the dutiful submission that we pay to her, let us always remember how CHRIST loved his mother, and how that love was repaid; for, oh! there is nothing like a mother's love. The love of man may be more ardent, and impetuous, and enthusiastic: but it is the love of a mother alone that never fails or diminishes. Even if the face of a father be set against us, yet the affection of the mother remains unchanged and unwearied-nay, seems to grow stronger when the rest of the world begin to despise or to hate us. It is always a refuge for us against the storms and cruelties of fortune; neither unkindness, nor infamy, nor crime can break it down: but the mother's affection seems to gather intensity in proportion as our claim to it is forfeited. Thus in every member and department of our household are we taught to remember CHRIST: and by setting before us his example, and so endeavouring to make our family practically and vitally Christian, we shall really have that which Philemon, and Aquila, and Priscilla had-"a church in our house." Nor, even when we set our foot outside our door, ought we to fail of being reminded of our Christian duties and condition. He that is wise, even in gazing on the flowers of the field, will be reminded of the bounteous and perpetual care of his Father, who condescends to lavish such prodigality of beauty upon the grass and herbs of the earth; he will remember who it is that has commanded him to "consider the lilies how they grow;" and has advised him to reflect, that if the flowers of the field are worthy of GoD's care, how infinitely more worthy of that care must the soul of man be! The garden, too, how full is that of holy admonition and divine thought! It was a garden that man inhabited whilst he was yet innocent and unsullied by sin; and truly the flowers of a garden are so fair, and their fragrance so sweet, that they seem fit and intended to be the companions and the delight of innocent and happy beings. They seem to reproach man with his follies and his crimes, and to remind him from how fair an inheritance sin has cast him out! It was in a garden that our Saviour made his last supplication to his Father for strength to enable Him to undergo the torture of the cross; for fortitude to baffle the power of Satan, and achieve the redemption of mankind. CHRIST has indeed consecrated the shade and solitude of the garden by his victorious prayer. If He has taught us to make our house a church, He has also taught us to make our garden the court of that church. He has sanctified its bowers by prayer, so that along with the fragrance which the leaves and the flowers send forth, the far sweeter incense of the breath of devotion may rise as an acceptable offering to the clouds of heaven. It was in a garden that our Saviour found his grave; above all, it was in a garden that, after He had burst the fetters of death, He first appeared to the affectionate Mary Magdalene. Now it is good for us that in our daily and most ordinary occupations we should thus be reminded of CHRIST; that the very air around us should breathe, as VOL. III. 2 B it were, the spirit of the Gospel. Men are too apt to regard their Christian duties and feelings as distinct from the duties and feelings of common life; whereas Christianity, to be vital and saving, must pervade, impregnate, and control our every word and action and thought. It is not a thing to be remembered when we are at church, and to be forgotten in the midst of the business of the world. On the contrary, its influence is then most necessary, and ought to be most prevailing, when we are most occupied with the cares and distractions of life. His is the true Christian frame of mind, who has learned to associate the name of CHRIST with every thing that he does. Such a man enjoys true happiness of heart,-not that boisterous and silly intemperance, which entails speedy repentance; which gains neither the respect of others, nor satisfaction for ourselves; but that cheerful and unruffled peace of mind, which passes the understanding, because it' cannot be represented to the imagination of those that are strangers to CHRIST. By constantly dwelling in our hearts upon CHRIST, and by endeavouring to keep his image and example always before our minds, we shall come to love Himnot as we ought, for that is impossible, but-with such love as our corrupt and imperfect hearts will admit. Oh! happy is the household which is a church of CHRIST! and happy, yea, many times happy, is he who dwells with CHRIST!—who, in every work that he does, in every thought of his understanding, in every aspiration of his soul, endeavours so to conform himself to the likeness of a brother of CHRIST, as finally to render himself fit, through the meritorious cross of his Redeemer, to become a member of his glorified family in heaven. THE WORLD, THE GATE OF HEAVEN. BY THE REV. JOHN G. SHEPPARD, M.A., FELLOW OF WADHAM COLLEGE, OXFORD, AND SECOND MASTER OF REPTON SCHOOL. GENESIS XXVIII. 17. And he was afraid and said, "How dreadful is this place! this is none other but the house of God,-this is the gate of heaven." WE E must all be familiar with the circumstances to which these words refer. Whose memory will not vividly supply the events of that singular history which the inspired writer has just recorded? The designing mother; the feeble blind old man; the reckless Esau, careless of his heritage, but devoted to the chase; the agitated Jacob, lending himself perhaps with many a blush to execute his mother's treachery, yet beloved of old by GOD, and destined to become the father of a mighty race, all these are pictured like household forms upon our hearts, and come back to the memory with the freshness of our first early emotions. Who does not tremble for the daring deceiver while the blessing still hangs upon the lips of the irresolute old man, and he doubtfully exclaims, "The voice is Jacob's voice, but the hands are the hands of Esau!" What heart does not respond to the agony of that exceeding bitter cry, "Bless me, even me also, Oh my father!" Let us then under the influence of such feelings recur once more to these old familiar scenes. Let us in thought rejoin the Patriarch as, flying from an angry brother, he quits his father's home, and journeys painfully onward to the promised plains of Padan-Aram. The day is far spent: he has traversed many a league companionless and sad, and now at nightfall has paused to seek precarious slumber beneath the shelter of those hospitable rocks. Behind him are the scenes, the occupations, the endearing memories of early youth; before him lie an untried future, a strange people, and a foreign land; around him are the silence and the solitude of the desert. How must the solemnity of such a scene overwhelm the wayfarer as he stands with none but GOD and Conscience upon that lonely plain! How must the memories of the past crowd thick upon the heart, and strangely mingling with hopes for the future agitate his bosom like a troubled sea, until he seek for peace and confidence in prayer! Judge ye his feelings, my younger friends, who standing upon the confines of youth and manhood, with passions unsubdued, and principles unconfirmed, are about to seek amidst unknown scenes the accomplishment of your earthly fortunes. Did he indulge in idle dreams of bye-gone happiness, and water its tomb with unavailing tears? or was his bosom filled with wild unchastened ambition? Did he surrender himself recklessly to all its onward impulses,-its golden visions of honour, advancement, and eternal fame? No! We may safely infer from the tenor of the sacred narrative, that he gave up his soul with all its tumultuous throbbings of hope and fear, and joy and sorrow, unto God. And GOD accepted the offering of his faithful worshipper. He shed around him the spirit of a holy calm. He brought repose to the brow that was pillowed on those rude stones. He breathed his own peace-"the peace of GOD, which passeth understanding," into that troubled breast. He removed the film from his earthly eyes, and |