ceeding directly from the mouth of God, by a voice from the excellent glory, and it was afterwards written by the finger of God on two tables of stone. The law thus given was a summary of the moral law, containing ten precepts; referring, first, to our duty, as it immediately has God for its object; secondly, as it refers | to the duties we owe to one another. This law was in substance the same with that law originally written on the heart of man, and it is binding on all, and of unchangeable obligation. We have cause of great thankfulness that this law has been recorded in the Scriptures, to be to us the rule of life. Herein God hath shewn us what is good, and what he requireth of us, and we may join with the Psalmist in saying respecting it, "The law of the Lord is perfect, converting the soul: the testimony of the Lord is sure, making wise the simple. The statutes of the Lord are right, rejoicing the heart: the commandment of the Lord is pure, enlightening the eyes. The fear of the Lord is clean enduring for ever: the judgments of the Lord are true, and righteous altogether. More to be desired are they than gold, yea, than much fine gold: sweeter also than honey and the honey-comb. Moreover, by them is thy servant warned: and in keeping of them there is great reward." And we have still farther ground of thanksgiving, that when this law was defaced, and in a great measure obliterated in us by sin, we have a promise given us in the Gospel, that in receiving Christ the unspeakable gift of God, who is the end of the law for righteousness to all who believe, we shall have this law again written upon the fleshly tables of our hearts by the Spirit of God; so that having the law of God in our hearts, we may walk in all the commandments and ordinances of the Lord blameless. "This is the covenant that I will make with the house of Israel after those days, saith the Lord; I will put my laws into their minds, and write them in their hearts: and I will be to them a God, and they shall be to me a people. And they shall not teach every man his neighbour, and every man his brother, saying, Know the Lord; for they shall all know me, from the least to the greatest; for I will be merciful to their unrighteousness, and their sins and their iniquities will I remember no more.

I would only add farther, in reference to the giving of the law, that we are especially called to consider what effect was produced upon the people of Israel, from the awful and impressive display of God's glory that was made to pass before them on that solemn occasion. The effect was, that they were filled with reverence, and awe, and terror; and they said to Moses, "speak thou to us, and we will hear; but let not God speak with us, lest we die." And God, it appears, was well pleased with this saying of the people, for it proceeded from a deep impression upon their minds of God's unspotted holiness, and of their own sinfulness, that made it unsuitable for them to come into God's immediate presence. They were thus made sensible of their need of a Mediator to transact between God and them, and thus one end of the giving the law was answered, viz. that it might be a schoolmaster to lead them to Christ. Accordingly, in close connection with the request of the people, that God would not speak to them any more directly by a voice out of the midst of the fire, Moses informed them that a Mediator would be sent to them. "The Lord thy God will raise up a Prophet of thy brethren, like unto me: unto Him ye shall hearken, according to all that thou desiredst of the Lord thy God in Horeb, in the day of the assembly, saying: Let me not hear again the voice of the Lord my God, neither let me see the great fire any more, that I die not. And the Lord said unto me, They have well spoken that which they have spoken. I will raise them up a Prophet from among their brethren, like unto thee. And I will put my words into His mouth, and He shall speak all the words that I command Him.

:

And it shall come to pass, that whosoever shall not hearken to my words, which He shall speak in my name, I will require it of him."

Now, if we have attained to any suitable conceptions of God's unspotted holiness, that He hath an infinite love to holiness, and an infinite hatred of sin; and that it is his irreversible determination, that in his righteous administration, sin shall by no means pass unpunished on the part of God; and if we are brought to deep convictions of our guilt, and degradation, and alienation from God in heart and life, on our part, then we must be convinced that there can be no direct communication between the holy God and his sinful creatures; then, like the Israelites, we shall be convinced of our need of a Mediator, through whom God may communicate his will to us, and through whom we may present our prayers and supplications to God. And how thankful should we be, that when under a consciousness of guilt, we tremble at the thought of approaching unto God, lest we should be consumed in his anger, and are disposed, like Job, to wish that there were a day's-man betwixt us, who could lay his hand upon us both, we have the assurance that God hath appointed his own dear Son to bring us the good tidings of great joy, that God is in Him reconciling the world to himself, not imputing to them their trespasses, and that through Him a new and living way is opened up for our coming unto God with acceptance, and being restored to his favour. Christ coming in the name of the Lord mighty to save, may now be considered as addressing us in the language of Elihu to Job: "Behold, I am according to thy wish in God's stead; I also am formed out of the clay. Behold, my terror shall not make thee afraid, neither shall my hand be heavy upon thee." And, having this new and living way of access unto God through the Lord Jesus Christ, shall we not gladly avail ourselves of it? 66 Seeing that we have a Great High Priest, that is passed into the heavens, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold fast our profession. For we have not a high priest who cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities, but was in all things tempted like as we are, yet without sin. Let us, therefore, come boldly to the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need."

LOVE OF COUNTRY.

BY CHARLES MOIR, ESQ.

THE love of country, considered as a ruling passion in the human breast, may be ranked only second, if it can be said to be second, to the tie of kindred. It is a principle in our natural constitution, wisely planned by the Giver of all good for the wisest and best of purposes. Without it, man would be a roving animal, bound to no particular spot, having no affection for the land of his nativity, no chain to bind him, by one of the closest of all ties, to that soil which his fathers tilled, and with the dust of which their bones may, for generations, have mingled.

Ranked as a virtue, and one of no mean standard, love of country is of incalculable benefit, viewed both as to man's moral advancement, and in regard to his temporal comfort. Stimulated by its inspiring influence, he watches with jealous eye every attempt at innovation on his vested rights of possession. His property in the soil must not be disturbed by foreign interference, without a strong and last attempt to preserve it free and unfettered as when, by birth, he entered on its possession. The laws and institutions of his country, framed by the wisdom of his ancestors, and secured to him, it may be, by many a severe struggle against the inroads of despotism, and the no less dangerous attacks of reckless innovation, are regarded with those feelings of reverence due to things tried by the expe

rience of centuries. His whole heart, by the closest ties of affinity, is bound to the land of his nativity. Old recollections of infancy's hours of innocence; boyhood's thoughtless days, and manhood's busier and maturer prime, with all their sweet or melancholy reminiscences, are each and all of them links in that mysterious chain that rivets the heart of man to the soil on which his first footsteps tottered.

No advantage of climate; no temptation afforded by the changeless serenity of cloudless skies, and the profusion of a rich and teeming soil, can atone to the home-sick emigrant for even a partial banishment from the land of his birth. The ice-bound shores of Greenland, where the year is but a long winter, are as dear to its hardy race as are to the effeminate Persian the luxuriant gardens of the East. And the wild and untutored Indian, "the stoic of the woods, the man without a tear," would he exchange his green savannahs, and his trackless woods, for the splendid city, with its crowded marts, where civilization, hand in hand with every temporal comfort, dwells?

The love of country is so universal, that men regard with the keenest sensations of pleasure any spot, although it be a desert, provided it is their own. The Ethiopian imagines that God framed his sands and deserts, while angels only were employed in forming the rest of the globe. The Arabian tribe of Ouadelin conceive that the sun, moon, and stars rise only for them. The Maltese, insulated on a rock, call their island "The Flower of the World; " and the Carribbees look on their country as a paradise, and imagine that they alone are entitled to be called men. Who does not remember the eloquent reply of the American Indian, when an European advised him to emigrate to another district, "What!" said he, "shall we say to the bones of our fathers, Arise, and follow us to a foreign country!" When separation is a work of necessity, distance only renders more dear to us the land of our birth. In the Narrative of a Private Soldier, I think of the 71st, the author relates, with much simple pathos, the effect produced by a casual incident, where the chord was struck, whose vibrations responded to home. During the stillness of a night-watch on the Pyrenees, a comrade, to while away the long hours, began to whistle in a melancholy key the national air of "Lochaber no more;" "when," he says, "a whole flood of recollections rushed across my mind, and such a sincere longing to see my native land succeeded, that I could only find relief in a copious flood of tears." But with how much greater effect does the "Rans-de-vache" operate on the heart of the exile Swiss! It is said that the mere singing of that simple air is, in many cases, fitted to produce such a longing for home, that if not scon gratified, the poor emigrant from his native mountains too often falls a victim to the "maladie-dupais." This interesting trait in their national character is finely introduced by Rogers in the following passage:

"The intrepid Swiss that guards a foreign shore,
Condemned to climb his mountain cliffs no more;
If chance he hears the song so sweetly wild,
Which on those cliffs his infant years beguiled,
Melts at the long lost scenes that round him rise,
And sinks a martyr to repentant sighs."

All the great men of this and of past ages have, in their lives and writings, borne evidence to the strong tie of love of country. The poetry of our age teems with passages of great beauty, illustrative of the strength of this all-prevailing passion. Every one is familiar with the spirit-stirring lines of Scott,

"Breathes there a man with soul so dead, Who never to himself hath said,This is my own, my native land;" where every sentiment is imbued with the true spirit of patriotism. Cowper, the sweet poet of the Task, although he looked at all times with a keen eye on the follies of his countrymen, and was a stern foe to, and

severe exposer of, their vices, thus breaks out in the second book of that admirable poem :—

"England, with all thy faults, I love thee still-
My country! and, while yet a nook is left,
Where English minds and manners may be found,
Shall be constrained to love thee. Though thy clime
Be fickle, and thy year most part deform'd
With dripping rains, or wither'd by a frost,
I would not yet exchange thy sullen skies,
And fields without a flower, for warmer France
With all her vines: nor for Ausonia's groves

Of golden fruitage, and her myrtle bowers."

Nor are her dear bought and much valued privileges, whatever these may be, left untouched. Leyden, in his delightful poem, "Scenes of Infancy," thus sings of

his country:

"Land of my fathers!-though no mangrove here
O'er thy blue stream her flexile branches rear,
Nor scaly palm her fingered scions shoot,
Nor luscious guava wave her yellow fruit,
Nor golden apples glimmer from the tree:
Land of dark leaths and mountains! thou art free.
"Dear native vallies! may you long retain
The chartered freedom of the mountain swain!
Long 'mid your sounding glades, in union sweet,
May rural innocence and beauty meet!

And still be duly heard, at twilight calm,

We

From every cot, the peasant's chaunted psalm!" Patriotism, whether in the field or the senate; in the advancement of learning or of arts, by which the intellectual character of a country is raised; is with all men an over-ruling passion. Did these peaceful pages allow me, how many splendid deeds, that stud, like bright stars, the horizon of history, could I lay before my readers; striking instances of self-devotion scarcely surpassed in the annals of martyrdom. Even in our own days, living examples of the great sacrifices that good men will make for their country, are not wanting. But instead, let us turn to the pages of Scripture, and there we will find recorded many beautiful instances. read in 1st Kings, how Hadad, yet a little child, was brought by his father into Egypt, while Joab the captain of the host had gone down with all Israel to cut off every male in Edom. And Hadad grew up, and found great favour in the sight of Pharaoh, who gave him to wife "the sister of his own wife; yet after these marks of kingly favour, in the beautiful simplicity of Scripture it is told," When Hadad heard in Egypt that David slept with his fathers, and that Joab, the captain of the host, was dead, Hadad said to Pharaoh, Let me depart, that I may go to mine own country. Then Pharaoh said unto him, But what hast thou lacked with me, that behold, thou seekest to go to thine own country? And he answered, Nothing: howbeit let me go in any wise." Thus when all danger was past, the love of country once more kindled within him with redoubled force, and the home-sick Hadad longed to return to the land of his birth.

Nehemiah is a fine instance of that true patriotism that burns in the breast of every good man. When he was told of the misery of Jerusalem; that her walls were broken down, and the Jews left of the captivity in great affliction, his heart was stirred for the sufferings of his brethren, and he prayed earnestly to the Lord, as he was the king's cup-bearer, that he would grant him favour in his sight. "And it came to pass, in the month Nisan, in the twentieth year of Artaxerxes the king, that wine was before him; and I (Nehemiah) took up the wine, and gave it unto the king. Now I had not been before time sad in his presence. Wherefore the king said unto me, Why is thy countenance sad, seeing thou art not sick? this is nothing else but sorrow of heart. Then I was very sore afraid, and said unto the king, Let the king live for ever; why should not my countenance be sad, when the city, the place of my father's sepulchres, lieth waste, and the gates thereof are consumed with fire? Then the king said unto me, For what doest thou make request? So I prayed to the God of heaven. And I said unto the king, If it please the king, and if thy servant have found favour

in thy sight, that thou wouldst send me unto Judah, unto the city of my father's sepulchres, that I may build it."

And in the Prophet Jeremiah we find the following fine passage: "Weep ye not for the dead, neither hemoan him; but weep sore for him that goeth away; for he shall return no more, nor see his native country." Who can doubt, then, after such passages as these, that such an affection is planted in our nature for a wise and beneficent purpose? The heartless man of the world, whose grovelling desires rise not beyond the mere accumulation of worldly riches, may hold in contempt those finer constituted natures that assimilate love of country with love of kindred; whose native soil is dear to them, because it holds the graves of their fathers; whose streams are sacred, because in their waters they were wont to bathe their infant limbs; and whose old familiar trees are hallowed in their remembrance, because, in days of other years, their leafy screen has shaded them from many a scorching summer sun; still it is such men who in the annals of every nation are found chronicled as her brightest benefactors.

The Father of all implanted love of country in the hearts of his children, that by its inspiring influence every social blessing, as well as every better gift might not be wanting among them; that by following out its impulse, men might bestir themselves to found civil and sacred institutions, by which alone the wisdom of a people is known, and their happiness enlarged and established. For if love of country be not found in us, we will never be careful that her name should be reverenced, not alone for the extent of her mercantile resources, but for "that knowledge that exalteth a nation." Let us, then, be thankful for such a wise provision in our nature; for the kindness of Him who placed an affection within us, the true application of which, while it extends the blessings and increases the comforts of thousands, doubly repays himn who exercises it, in the satisfaction he necessarily feels in doing a good action, and the reward that awaits him, when his career on earth is closed, from the hand of a kind Father, to whose throne, through the merits of the Redeemer, the savour of a good deed riseth not up in vain.

CHRISTIAN TREASURY.

Meekness. Meekness may be regarded, with respect both to God and our brethren. Towards God-it is the silent submission of the soul to his Word, the understanding bowed to every divine truth, and the will to every divine precept, and both without murmuring or disputing. It is the silent submission of the soul to the providence of God. When the events of Providence are grievous and afflictive, displeasing to sense, and crossing our secular interests; meekness doth not only quiet us under them, but reconciles us to them, and enables us not only to bear, but to receive evil as well as good at the hand of the Lord; which is the excellent frame that Job argues himself into, Job ii. 10. It is to kiss the rod, and even to accept of the punishment of our iniquity; taking all in good part that God doth; not daring to strive with our Maker; no, nor desiring to prescribe to him, but dumb, and not opening the mouth, because God doeth it. How meek was Aaron under the severe dispensation which took away his sons, with a particular mark of the divine displeasure. "He held his peace." Lev. x. 3. God was satisfied, and, therefore, Aaron was satisfied, and had not a word to say against it. Whatsoever pleaseth God, must not displease us. The language of meekness is that of Eli, "It is the Lord;" and of David, Here am I, let him do to me as seemeth good unto him." Not only he may do what he will, subscribing to his sovereignty, for he giveth not account of any of bis matters. Or he can do what he will, subscribing |

64

to his power, for who can stay his hand? Or he will do what he will, subscribing to his unchangeableness, "for he is in one mind, and who can turn him?" But let him do what he will, subscribing to his wisdom and goodness, as Hezekiah, (Isaiah xxxix 8.) "Good is the word of the Lord which thou hast spoken." Let him do what he will, for he will do what is best; and, therefore, if God would refer the matter to me, saith the meek and quiet soul, being well assured that he knows what is good for me, better than I do myself, I would refer it to him again, He shall choose our inheritance for us." Psalm xlvii. 4. Where the methods of providence are dark and intricate, and we are quite at a loss what God is about to do with us, "His way is in the sea, and his path in the great waters, and his footsteps are not known, clouds and darkness are round about him," a meek and quiet spirit acquiesceth in an assurance that all things shall work together for good to us, though we cannot apprehend how or which way. It teacheth us to follow God with an implicit faith as Abraham did, when he went out not knowing whither he went, but knowing very well whom he followed, (Heb. xi. 8.,) and quieting us with this, that though what he doth we know not now, yet we shall know hereafter. When poor Job was brought to that dismal plunge, that he could no way trace the footsteps of divine providence, but was almost lost in the labyrinth, (Job xxiii. 8, 9.) how quietly doth he sit down (ver. 10.,) with this thought: "But he knows the way that I take, when he hath tried me I shall come forth as gold."-MATTHEW HENRY.

Come quickly.-One sign of the spiritual life of the Christian, while on earth, is his looking for, and hastening unto, the coming of the day of God, (1 Pet. iii. 12,) when the Son of man shall be seen descending in the clouds of heaven. And all things whatever, he knows, are moving towards his revelation. Does he see the seasons revolving, the planets silently rolling forward in their orbits? He knows that every successive winter and summer, every new moon or returning Sabbath-day, onward bring the appointed time. Does he listen to the commotions rising among the nations of the earth, as to the rustling of the leaves of a mighty forest, agitated by the awakening gale, or to the distant roar of the battle-thunder, shaking almost the very ground on which he treads? He knows that all is but in truth the noise of the chariot wheels of Him, who has ascended his car of judgment and of victory, and is on his way earthwards, and who will thus, ere long, appear again. Approach does he now? He does approach. "And the Spirit and the bride say, Come. And let him that heareth say, Come." As when the lark springs from among the tall ryegrass, and with tremulous note flutters upward, until almost lost to human sight, and another and another rise in quick succession with shrill sounding song,-till the air is filled with the music of the wing-borne choir; so one saint, in the midst of thy vales, O Britain! when he hears of the gladsome tidings of the Saviour's advent, with rising expectation and desire cries out, "Come quickly!" and another saint, in arid Hindostan, whose ears the good news have also reached, exclaims, under the influence of the same feelings, "Come quickly!" and another saint, in sea-girt Taheite, rejoins, "Come quickly!" and the saints of God everywhere, catching the inviting words, take them up and say, "Come quickly!" and the sleeping dust of saints, long since departed, sends forth from their resting-places the same importuning request," Come quickly!" and the whole creation, groaning and travailing in pain, joins in the call, "Come quickly!" and lo! the universal prayer is heard, and the response is," Behold! I do come quickly, and my reward is with me, to give to every man according as his work shall be."-SOSTHENES. (On Union with Christ and abiding in Him.)

SACRED POETRY.

THE CHRISTIAN'S HOPE AND TRIUMPH.

WHO would not be a Christian? Who but now
Would share the Christian's triumph and his hope!
His triumph is begun. 'Tis his to hail,

Amid the chaos of a world convulsed,
A new creation rising. Mid the gloom
Which wraps the low concerns of states and kings,
He marks the morning star; sees the far East
Blush with the purple dawn: he hears a trump,
Louder than all the clarions and the clang
Of horrid war, swelling, and swelling still,
In lengthening notes, its all-awakening call—
The trump of jubilee. Are there not signs,
Thunders and voices, in the troubled air?
Do ye not see, upon the mountain tops,
Beacon to beacon answering? Who can tell
But all the harsh and dissonant sounds, which long
Have been are still-disquieting the earth,
Are but the tuning of the varying parts
For the grand chorus, which shall usher in
The hastening triumph of the Prince of Peace!
Yes; his shall be the kingdoms. He shall come,
Ye scoffers at his tarrying! Hear ye not,
E'en now, the thunder of his wheels! Awake,
Thou slumbering world! E'en now the symphonies
Of that blest song are floating through the air-
Peace, peace on earth, and glory be to God!

SEPARATION OF FRIENDS.

FRIEND after friend departs;

Who hath not lost a friend? There is no union here of hearts,

That finds not here an end!
Were this frail world our final rest,
Living or dying none were blest.
Beyond the flight of time,-

Beyond the reign of death,-
There surely is some blessed clime
Where life is not a breath;
Nor life's affections transient fire,
Whose sparks fly upwards and expire.
There is a world above

Where parting is unknown;

A long eternity of love,

Form'd for the good alone:
And faith beholds the dying here
Translated to that glorious sphere!
Thus star by star declines,

Till all are past away:

As morning high and higher shines

To pure and perfect day:

Nor sink those stars in empty night,
But hide themselves in heaven's own light.
MONTGOMERY.

MISCELLANEOUS.

Unwearied Benevolence.—The following anecdote of the late Dr Walker, well known as the director of the London Jennerian and Vaccine Institutions, is extracted from the memoir of him, by his friend and successor, Dr Epps. While our troops were using the weapons of destruction, Dr Walker was busily employed in saving life. His work of vaccination being completed, he attended the sick of the British navy, and of the Turkish army. The sense of weariness while engaged in these works of mercy, he seems hardly to have known; being assisted by his friend, general Sir John Doyle, in prosecuting these labours of goodness. The

following extract of a letter from that worthy officer speaks volumes. "The general can never forget the impression made upon him by the extraordinary situation in which he first made an acquaintance with that amiable and benevolent individual, Dr Walker. The day after the action, near Alexandria, where the brave Abercrombie fell, the general was riding over the field of battle, attended by two orderly dragoons, to see if there were any wounded, French or English, who had escaped notice the evening before; when, on turning round a wall near the sea-side, he was struck with an appalling sight of more than a hundred French soldiers, with their officers, huddled together, desperately wounded by grape and cannon shot from an English brig of war. From being collected in the recess of the wall, they had escaped notice on the previous day of search, and were exposed to the night air, and with undressed wounds. Here the general saw a man, evidently English, in the garb of a quaker, actively employed in the heavenly task of giving his humane assistance to those poor brave sufferers; giving water to some, dressing the wounds of others, and affording consolation to all. Upon inquiry, he found the benevolent individual to be Dr John Walker, who was himself almost exhausted, having been thus nobly employed from day-break, without any assistance."

Beautiful exposition by a Greenlander. The correct scriptural information possessed by the converted heathen is truly delightful. From many beautiful specimens of the views given us of the pious Greenlanders, we select the following:-Daniel, with some other of his countrymen, being present when one of the European brethren had cast a pewter spoon, remarked upon the process of polishing, "Now I can well conceive how our Saviour acts in the circumcision of our hearts, and how he proceeds even to the end, with our purifiIcation, when we surrender our hearts to him. He must first cut away all the coarse stuff that is good for nought; and yet he afterwards finds much still to rub off. This causes him much trouble, and us pain too. But behold, just as the brother pours on the burnishing water, to do it the easier, and to make the spoon the smoother and brighter, so our Saviour sprinkles us with his own blood, makes our purification agreeable, and never leaves us till we are pleasant in his sight."

Rev. John Newton.-The late Rev. John Newton used to improve every occurrence which he could with propriety introduce into the pulpit. One night he found a bill put up at St Mary, Woolnoth's, upon which he largely commented in his sermon. The bill was to this effect:" A young man, having come to the possession of a very considerable fortune, desires the prayers of the congregation, that he may be preserved from the snares to which it exposes him." Now, if the man," said Mr N., "had lost a fortune, the world would not have wondered to see him put up a bill; but this man has been better taught.'

64

Separate Numbers from the commencement may at all times be had. Now ready, Voluine I., elegantly bound in embossed cloth, Price 78., or in Two Parts, Price &s. Also, Volume II., Part I., Price 4s. 6d.

Published by JOHN JOHNSTONE, at the Offices of the SCOTTISH CHRISTIAN HERALD, 2, Hunter Square, Edinburgh, and 19, Glassford Street, Glasgow; J. NISBET & Co., HAMILTON, ADAMS & Co., and R. GROOMBRIDGE, London; W. CURRY, Junior, & Co., Dublin; and W. M COMB, Belfast; and sold by the Booksellers and Local Agents in all the Towns and Parishes of Scotland; and in the principal Towns in England and Ireland.

Subscribers in Edinburgh, Leith, and Portobello, will have their copies delivered at their own residences regularly, by leaving their addresses with the Publisher.-Subscribers in Glasgow will, in like the Publishing Office there, 19, Glassford Street. manner, have their copies delivered, by leaving their addresses at

Subscription (payable in advance) per quarter, of twelve weeks, 1s. 6d.-per half-year, of twenty-four weeks, 38.-per year, of fortyeight weeks, 6s-Monthly Parts, containing four Numbers each, stitched in a printed wrapper, Price Sixpence,