In

ated of the inspired penmen. It is under the name seneh, which our translators have rendered "bush,' that this plant is first mentioned in the Bible, Exodus iii. 2-4, when the "angel of the Lord appeared unto (Moses) in a flame of fire out of the midst of a bush ;" and Moses looked, "and behold the bush burned with fire, and the bush was not consumed." Moses, we are also told, turned aside to see why the bush was not burned, and when he turned aside, "God called to him out of the midst of the bush." In the blessing wherewith Moses the man of God blessed the children of Israel before his death (Deut. xxxiii. 16), and which he so fervently sought for in behalf of Joseph, he prays for the "good will of Him who dwelt in the bush.' Jotham's celebrated parable (Judges ix. 14, 15, &c.), when the trees went forth on a time to anoint a king over them, we find the bramble among the number of aspirants to that high honour. "Then said all the trees to the bramble, come thou, and reign over us." But the covert allusion, in the 15th verse of the same chapter, is very striking, where it is said, "Let fire come out of the bramble, and consume the cedars of Lebanon." The same plant is alluded to, in connection with fire, or burning, in Psalın viii. 9, where it is said, "Before your pots can feel the thorns (i.e. prickles of the brambles), he shall take them away as with a whirlwind." In Isaiah xxxiv. 13," Nettles and brambles" are represented as growing together. The bush, or bramble, is also connected with nettles: Job xxx. 7, Among the bushes (i.e. brambles), they brayed; under the nettles they were gathered together." That the bush and the bramble are identical, appears very evident from the above quotations and remarks. But were there any doubt on the subject, Luke (vi. 44) settles the point, where he says, "For of thorns men do not gather figs, nor of a bramble-bush gather they grapes." Now the Greek word here used by St Luke is batos; and it is to be observed, that the very same word is used, Acts vii. 30, where the inspired record says, "There appeared to him in the wilderness of Mount Sinai, an angel of the Lord in a flame of fire, in a bush." It appears, then, that batos in the Greek is used indifferently for a bush, and a bramblebush; hence the conclusion, that the bush which burned, and yet was not consumed, was a species of bramble, namely, the rubus sanctus, or Palestine bramble, before alluded to. This plant is peculiar to Palestine; it has a general resemblance to our common bramble, the rubus fruticosus, and rubus carylifolius, but has smaller, more rounded, and fewer leaflets; and the flowers and whole plant are of much smaller dimensions. The leaves are in threes, woolly beneath. The stem is angular, the branches and footstalks downy with hooked prickles; the flowers in panules, numerous. It was found by Tournefort, on the borders of Palestine, and also on Mount Sinai, whence it derives its name. A very good drawing of this plant is given, Schreber, dec. 15, t. 8. A writer apparently ignorant of science, lately mentioned in the pages of a literary newspaper, that there was no bramble in Palestine. Such careless illiterate assumptions ought to be checked, as they have a direct tendency to deceive and mislead, to foster ignorance, and encourage presumption. The "burning bush" has been adopted by the Church of Scotland as its crest, with an appropriate motto in Latin. It would be well, if the plant chosen to represent the bush were something or other. The designers seem always to have some large tree in view, as if largeness and true majesty always went together a vulgar idea. The sublimer idea certainly is, the small shrub" at first like "a grain of mustard seed," humble and unostentatious in its growth, and first beginnings, but at length spreading forth its branches till the whole earth be refreshed beneath the shadow of its boughs. The thistle is an humble enough emblem of the State, and is an excellent com

panion to the equally humble bramble. Let them both flourish and fight it out together, but let not the thorns of the one be opposed to the stings of the other. Of our national Zion, amid all her flames of party, heats of opposition, and fiery ordeals of internal dissension; amid all the perils, dangers, and temptations to which she may be exposed, may it still be said of her as of the bush, which, although it burns, "Nec tamen consumebatur."

AN URGENT CALL TO INDUSTRY AND UNWEARIED EXERTION IN THE WORK OF THE MINISTRY:

A DISCOURSE.

[Preached before the Synod of Angus and Mearns, 22d October 1839, and published at the request of a number of the brethren.] BY THE REV. HENRY STUART,

Minister of the Parish of Oathlaw, Forfarshire.
(Continued from page 285.)

"Be instant in season, and out of season." -2 TIM. iv. 2. We have already stated, that the faithful minister of the Gospel will eagerly embrace those favourable circumstances which seem to open for him, as it were, a door to the hearts of his people. Perhaps such a singling out of seasons may seem a little at variance with what we have said re

specting his not hesitating upon every hindrance; and also with the secondary place which mere human instrumentality occupies in the economy of grace. The husbandman may often be obliged to work out of season; yet, though he can do so, he is never, on any account, to let slip the season when it especially favours him, on the plea, that any season will suit him. Such conduct has ever been held as one of the chief marks of the sluggard. And although, at all times, and under any circumstances, the word of God, when accompanied with power from on high, will effect an entrance into the heart, however hard it may be, and however heedless of the way of salvation, and although, without this power of the Spirit, no statement of divine truth, however forcibly or often repeated—and no means of grace, however wisely and assiduously applied, and no dispensation of providence, however appalling and improved, will produce any lasting or saving change upon it, so as that it yield the peaceable fruits of righteousness,—yet, there are certain seasons, and certain providential openings, when the Spirit does more generally make the word effectual to salvation; and his ministers are commanded to mark these seasons, and to observe these providences, so as to divide the word for their best improvement: and when this is carefully done, then does the word seem to come with more than usual power upon them that hear it just as if the Spirit delighted in such events, to prepare the heart to receive it With profit; and just as the hard lumps of earth are pulverized, some by the summer's sun, and others by the winter's frost, so are hard hearts melted, some by the rays of the Sun of Righteousness in the peaceful solemnity of ordinances, while others require, besides these, the severe pressure of the storm of adversity.

And first, for this great purpose, we notice the season of the Sabbath's rest and quiet, as well as the

service and the ordinances of the sanctuary. And of all such seasons, that of public worship, and of the communion, are the most precious to the servant of Christ's vineyard. He looks upon them as the very noontide of the day of grace to his people, as if he expected that then a double portion of heaven's rays would smile upon his cultivation, or that a double portion of its rain and its dew would descend to refresh, and to cause a mighty increase. And to meet the work of these seasons, there is a careful laying in of strength both from heaven and from earth. The question with him, is not, with how little preparation, exertion or fatigue, they can be put over; but, wherewithal shall he show himself approved unto God, a workman that needeth not to be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth"-and all his concern is, lest any one should be sent away without the portion that is due unto him, and lest that indescribable something should be wanting which recommends him to the consciences of all men, and whereby they know that he himself has received from the Lord, to his own benefit, that which he urges so earnestly upon them. Yet, notwithstanding all this vigorous preparation, and all this energy in applying it, nothing more does he guard against, than running in his own strength, and for nothing does he more earnestly pray, than that Christ would strengthen him with all might in the inner man, so that the excellency of the power may be altogether of God, and not of himself;-and nothing so much does he dread, as that a single Sabbath should pass away in any of its hours, whether public or private, without these being industriously occupied, either directly or indirectly, on the field of his labours ;-or that a single communion season should be enjoyed without his seeing a great and lasting refreshing from on high come upon them.

Then, in the second place, he has to make the most of the seasons of God's dispensations; and from these we select, for the exercise of his zeal, the days of adversity, and we do this all the more, because this is often the only season, when he can either make any hopeful approach to his people, or when any movement is made by them towards him, or to any of the means of grace. In the season of prosperity, many look on these means as fit only for the sick, and them that are ready to die; on which hard occasion they, too, may take advantage of them: and, as it was in the days of backsliding Israel, when in ease she did eat the good of the land, so in these our times of heartidolatry, the hand that is stretched out to save, has often to smite and to break in pieces the idols of the heart, before it can make itself to be regarded; the whirlwind of God's wrath has still to sweep away the refuge of lies, before men can be made to come to the household of faith, as poor, and blind, and miserable, and naked! And who is he that is a wise and faithful steward in that house, who will not be looking and waiting for them, and meeting such prodigals with the robe washed in the blood of the Lamb, and with the bread and the

water of life? Who is that unwearied watchman, who will not be more instant among the wreck of this world's goods, in bringing its sufferers to the covert from the tempest, "which is as a shadow of a rock in a weary land," than he is to bring himself under the gilded pavilion of those whom this world still does smile upon? God's visitations and chastisements of his people are no less a solemn warning to their pastor to set before them the things that belong unto their peace, than they are a warning to them, that they do attend unto those things. Yet, besides giving instant heed to the cry of the ungodly for help, when the hand of God presseth them sore, he is to be no less attentive to the mourner in Zion, whom in his weary pilgrimage darkness has overtaken, and whom faintness of heart has rendered feeble in his path Zionward.

There is, moreover, one day of adversity in which he is to be most seriously instant, and it is such a season as no one can escape-it is the day of death! And did that day bring nothing more alarming with it than the ruin of the body, and the sufferings by which death generally effects that ruin,—even this alone might be sufficient to secure, at the bed of the dying, the unremitting attendance of the servant of the compassionate Jesus.

But death generally, and that in a fearful manner, touches something more in man than his flesh and his bones; there is an unseen something in which the shaft of death sticks most cruelly fast, and which tells him that, dying, it cannot die. This awakened slumberer opens its eye upon a dark and dismal prospect into the eternal world, and sees before it a holy tribunal of justice and of judgment, from which there is not a possibility of escape. Yes, conscience aroused will crowd upon him an abridgement of time and eternity, and oblige him to feel that he is a miserable sinner, deserving no pity. He is now in time— another moment! and he may be in eternity! He is now in the arms of affectionate and weeping friends-another moment! and he may be in the grasp of the avenging hand of God! The spirit of the man sustained the man, so long as his body was the only part of him affected on the rack of death; but the iron of his shaft has entered his very soul, and, alas! what can be done to relieve the agonising pain, unless some servant of the Physician of Souls go near, and pour the balm of the Gospel upon it? Time has fled away, life is ebbing fast, and the billows of guilt are breaking over his benighted soul, and, alas! what can be done to save him, unless some watchman of the coast of Judah's land be instant in turning upon him the light that shineth from the Rock of Salvation? To this side he turns, but there is no peace; to the other side the billow tosses him, but there is no rest; and, alas! when will he be at rest, unless some of Galilee's fishers of men be out at their work, and direct him how to fix the anchor of his soul upon that Rock, sure and stedfast?

We need not tell the constant visitor of the sick-bed that such is not a case of mere fancy, or

of but rare occurrence. And surely the bare possibility of such a case of crying necessity for ministerial consolation ever occurring, is enough, on every occasion of a visit from death, to sweep away all hindrances, however great, between the pastor and the sinner's death-b d; and in as far as these arise from any circumstances over which he himself has any control, this will be unhesitatingly and uniformly done. Yet still he will meet with obstacles in the very threshold of the sick-room, and which will often require all his skill and perseverance to remove. He will there find the physician holding out false hopes of the recovery of the body, and that to the hurt of the soul; and the mistaken, though sincere, friends all standing in the way, to receive him as the veriest intruder upon the quiet of their patient, and as coming, with his gloomy and ill-boding exhortations, to make him die before his time. Yet this is not all;—even after he has got to the side of the sickbed, he has often to break up the very sleep of death from under Satan's seal. He may find some fearfully alive to their perishing condition, and struggling to get on the way of salvation; but he will find many, many more, who either cannot be made to see Death till he strike the last blow; or, if they do expect him, they wait his coming with the utmost indifference as to what is to come after him; or who, if they do dread the consequences, have all their alarms most securely quieted by false views of God's mercy and God's goodness, and the help of a Saviour's merits. At no season will the ministerial ability and faithfulness be put to a severer test, than in such an one as this;— when, without the sparing of any thing earthly, he has to give to this pleasing, but delusive, calm a most fearful disturbance, and that at his first entering into the midst of it. In doing so, his own natural feelings must be severely crossed. It is, indeed, out of season to them, and he is tempted to give way to his feelings; but, in as far as he can see, it is in season to God, and therefore he heeds them not. Yea, though the cold chill of an ill-received visit be upon them, and the hoar-frost of an atmosphere, on which the Sun of Righteousness never shone, rests upon his work as he returns to it; yet he returns, and he returns, till the very frequency of his presence, and the warmth of his attentions, begins to give a genial feeling to all around him, and the Spirit makes his simple, disinterested perseverance the mean whereby an entrance to the Law and to the Gospel is effected, not in the case of the dying patient only, but of all of his household.

The only other season we have time to notice, as favourable to the exertions of the servant of God, is, when there is an unusual awakening among his people, and a great and prevailing desire to hear from him, both in public and in private, the glad tidings of salvation. Alas! brethren, it is much to be lamented, but the experience of every one of us confirms the statement, that such a season is but of very rare occurrence. Why, some people look as if they were actually dragged out to

| public ordinances; while almost all look as if they had something else more important to secure their attendance upon them. No wonder, then, that such seasons, when they do occur, are looked upon with great suspicion and indifference by some; while they are held in derision by others, and that, too, in quarters where more knowledge of the Spirit's work and more faith in it might have been expected. But it is not our business here, to prove their possibility, or to show where they are, or when and where they may have ever been. It is allowed on all hands, where sound doctrine is entertained, that such a season must be in the life of every one that is saved; and when that season occurs, though it be in the case of only one sinner, or of two, or of three together, it is the duty of their pastor to pay the most devoted attention to it. Or, should his daily and his earnest cry be answered, that the seed which he is sowing may bring forth at once an hundred-fold ;—should one of his flock teach his brother to know the Lord,—and another, and another, stir up his neighbour, either by silent example or by serious admonition, to flee from the wrath to come;—and, if the more the company of pilgrims increases, and their thirst in a dry and parched land grows, the greater the cry should become, that goes up for the manna from heaven, and the greater the crowd attracted thereby, there is surely nothing very startling in all this spiritual phenomenon; for it is quite in keeping with the result of the exertions of apostolic times, as well as with all that we are taught to hope and to pray for from the influences of the Spirit in the Church of Christ. At the same time, it must be allowed, that, like every thing else that is precious, such seasons may have their counterfeits; while, in those that are real, they may not be all children that cry for "the children's bread." But, in what season, or in what field, does the husbandman expect all the blades to come to the "full corn in the ear?" And, in the time of drought, will he not lead the irrigating rill through the whole, because some parts of the soil are so shallow that there is a chance of these withering and decaying? Or, in the harvest, will he fold his hands, and allow his wheat to go with the winds, because he sees many tares amongst it, that an enemy has sown? We do not know that it is just the duty of the servant of God, first to sit down and to find out what produced this mighty increase, or spiritual commotion, before he bestir himself in the midst of it. Taking it at the lowest count,-that it is an effect of mere animal excitement, it is, however, such an excitement as sends many, who would not come before, or who came with an indifference that could not be moved, to hear the Word of God. In former seasons of lukewarmness, he pursued his people with the bread of life, and they ran away; in this, they press upon him, and cry, "Evermore give us of this bread."

Is the steward of God's household to rise then, and shut the door against them? If they come with even outward solemnity and decency, though perhaps with not the best inten

tions, these intentions may be changed, before they | depart, by the Word, in "demonstration and in power." Would he refuse to preach to the inmates of a prison-house, because it was no good that brought them there, and because they would not stay there, or indeed any where else to hear the Word preached, were it not for the bolts, and the bars, and the keepers, that compel their attendance? Surely, sowing the spiritual seed upon such a field as that we have now in view, cannot be so hopeless as casting corn upon the stagnant pools, or upon the barren mountain top. Instead of seedtime, such a season of revival is more like the very harvest of the spiritual husbandman on this earth; and we believe, that, under the Spirit, it is by his working up to our text, that such seasons are ever ushered in. Our remarks, therefore, might have been well spared, as regards sufficient activity to meet them; for the same industry that the Spirit used to produce them, he will aye more and more increase, to meet the demands that such an awakening may make upon it. Thrice happy and honoured, surely, are they who thus in time, and in so far, see the fruit of their labours! Formerly, they were like the man mentioned by the Psalmist, going forth with his seed, weeping in despair for its produce; now, with him they may rejoice, bringing back their sheaves. And need they rejoice the less, because the breath of the scoffer, in all seasons the very mildew of God's husbandry, falls harmlessly upon them; and because the cold blast, from the regions of formality, may try to scatter them, but shall not prevail?

We would now look, for a little, to the faithful pastor in the abundance of his zeal, when he has neither the ordinances nor the providences of God on his side for the time; or when he may be said to be labouring "out of season."

At all times, and in any place, where two or three of young or old can be got together, and prevailed upon decently to sit, as hearing instruction from the Word of God, whether on a Sabbath or on a weekday, whether as a meeting for prayer or for catechetical instruction, this is, in so far, a favourable season for him, and he is to improve it accordingly. But, farther, in the terms of our text, we hold, that he is to press his Master's work, when it seems to be favoured neither by positions of the outward man nor by affections of the inward man, among his people: when there is neither the rest of the Sabbath, nor the solemnity of the sanctuary, nor the sadness of adversity, nor the gloom and stillness of death, nor the awakening of conscience, nor even the quiet of the class-room, nor the hand stretched out, in silence, to receive some good book, or some tract, to second his endeavours, when he has just to mingle with his people in their ordinary employments and associations, and when this world is with them the all-engrossing subject. We have once and again stated, that, in as far as the pastor's own inclination is concerned, to work, is never "out of season" with him; but, in as far as the inclination of his people is concerned, to be wrought

upon by his spiritual gifts, is almost ever "out of season with them. True, most of them will allow him to be as violent and as pressing in the pulpit as he may, provided no favourite failing is assailed and disturbed by his particularity and his enthusiasm. They have no great objection to that season for the display of his zeal, because in a crowd there is always a pretty secure hope that it aims not at them; but in almost all other places and seasons, they are not to know him as having any cognizance of their conscience and their conduct. To be sure, they will at all times be glad to see him as a friend, and they will take it as very unkind if he look not in frequently upon them; but then, none of the great peculiarities of his office must be allowed to come along with him. They are in so far polite to him, that they keep in the back-ground their own favourite pursuits; and he must just return the civility, and talk to them about every thing else too, but that which (they do him the justice to believe) is nearest his heart, namely, the concerns of their immortal souls. But they are people of great regularity, and there is a time and a place with them for every thing-and the time for submitting to be reminded of heaven and of hell, to flee from the latter and to prepare for the former, is just the hour and a half of being in church of a Sunday ;-and if such grave subjects be forced upon their consideration at any other time, of nothing are they more certain, than of this, that such officious obtrusion must always do them a great deal more harm than good, and therefore must be decidedly "out of season," and very ill-timed. They are always delighted with their minister's good-humoured conversation, and it is all right that it be very pure from under such cloth, and sorry would they be to let out any thing in theirs disrespectful to it; but then, nothing must come out from under it at all calculated to disturb their own self-satisfaction of heart. If, at any time, they show a mark of respect to the excellence of his character, by inviting him to join a social circle of friends, it is all right that he should look also for such a mark of respect to his office, in sitting down with them, as that he be called upon to ask a blessing upon "the good things" that are to make him cheerful and happy on the occasion; but then, any thing farther professional-any attempt to give the conversation a serious turn, or any engrossment of the attention of the two or three nearest him from the conviviality of the party, to the consideration of their best interests-is looked upon as in very bad taste, and in very bad season, and as having no good effect.

We allow that the zealous pastor will often be so situated on such occasions of near and familiar contact with his people, as that he will not know well what to do; and it would be absurd to profess to guide him by any particular rules of spiritual conduct, for there are so many nameless ways of improving such intercourse. It is true, also, that on such occasions, holy things may be given unto the dogs, and pearls may be cast before swine; yet

it is to be feared, that these are often creatures of our timid imaginations, conjured up to allay conscience for doing nothing at all. The mind of the man of God ought to be instant in discriminating these by much prayerful consideration, and then being satisfied of their hopeless and desperate case, he may either, like his Master before his accusers, be silent, but in such a way as that it be known what he feels within; or rather, like Him on other occasions of hard-heartedness, withdraw himself altogether; and then will he have such an approbation of heaven as was granted unto David," because it was in his heart to build the spiritual temple, although he could find no stones for it in yonder place." Much, surely, is to be tried before it come to the hopeless issue of shaking "the dust off his feet." Yet there have been cases when this very last and desperate resource was the only one blessed and made effectual by the Spirit to those very persons against whom it was done. Far be it from us to give the slightest countenance to any thing like a rude and a reckless deportment in the servant of the meek and patient Jesus; but we conceive that, on occasions of promiscuous intercourse, there is such a way often of getting at people's hearts as may be likened to drawing a bow at a venture;-and were this done in the strength of the "revealed arm of the Lord," though its effect may not then appear, yet the heart at which it was aimed, may be so pricked as never again to find ease, till it be washed in the blood of sprinkling; for have we not all known instances of a single unintended expression taking such effect as to become the very commencement of the kingdom of heaven in them that heard it; and we fear, that one great reason, why instances of a "word not returning void," are not more common, is, that it hath not been spoken in the strong enough faith that it shall not do so the fear of men so predominating over our zeal, that we mistake morbid timidity, and false modesty, for polite and prudential conduct, and even to lay more to the account of opposition from the men of the world than they really deserve, from all that in experience we may know of it. At the same time, it would argue the grossest ignorance of the spirit of the world, and it would be expunging the very marrow of our text, were we to measure our zeal in pressing upon it spiritual things by its willingness to receive them. Nay! the manner in which the world does its own business gives us example to do far otherwise. It can, in a mere business-way, look at both sides of a question; and though it affects to despise the mental fire (which it embarks in its own concerns, and without which it frankly owns it could never get on with them), when this quality is mingled with religion, yet, if this principle make a noble and a consistent stand for religion that it prosper, the world, in spite of its epithets of derision, must in heart respect that zeal. Offences must come, but must the heralds of the Gospel stand mute for fear of offending the carnal mind? Nay! the Spirit makes the very feeling of offence, like that necessary in

Is it

strument of agriculture which buries the seed in the ground, and without which it would wither and die, to impress on the heart the word that caused it, and so that it bringeth forth fruit long after the offence is removed. Fathers and brethren, let us give no unnecessary offence to any man; but let us not let slip precious opportunities of doing good from a servile fear of man. not one great reason why, in temporal things, we are so securely provided, that we may be rendered as much as possible free to do our duty without the dread of any man being, on offence taken, able to affect these things? Let us never go abroad, then, without the mantle of our office, and let us always firmly take up ground becoming its sacred dignity and holiness, and let our heart's desire to God always be, that in every company we so deport ourselves as that it touch some one to his spiritual blessedness.

Once more, the faithful minister of the Gospel may have his zeal yet more severely tried in his week-day walk and conversation. For almost every pastor has some within the bounds of his oversight, upon whom he cannot, either in public or private, make his zeal to bear. He may be either so overwrought by attending to the multitudes that come in his way with a desire to profit, as that he has not, in the very nature of things, either time or strength to go after those who have gone altogether out of the way, and the number of whom is either so very great or so widely scattered, as that he can never overtake them. Or if they are not so, from other circumstances over which he has no control, he can never on any occasion meet with them so as to make any lasting impression. Hence, a great multitude has grown up that never have an opportunity of benefiting by the Gospel either in public or in private. Such persons (as the last original word of our text might be rendered,) may be said to be without a season of any kind. They have no religious atmosphere at all, or if they have, it is in the lowest region of the shadow of death; and no prospect of the day-spring from on high ever visiting it. They never knew a better state, and they will never seek one. True, God is found of them that seek him not; but he is found in the way of sending his unsought for ministers among them to bring them back unto himself; and, if ever this is done, it must be set about in the spirit of our text, by preaching from house to house to the twos and the threes of the wretched (even in this world's things) that can be got together,-by knocking at every door, at every hour and in every season. But what need of a single word upon the AGGRESSIVE PRINCIPLE of our text, as calculated to reclaim the vast masses of a lost population? Methinks the bare mention of it by such a name must crowd upon your minds those most powerful and luminous illustrations of its working we all so lately heard from the lips of him who first so named it, and the praise of whose zeal in reviving its operation is in all the churches.

Yet there is another sort of population with