particular, and illustrates his meaning by referring | to the exercise of a specific grace, which lies at the foundation of the moral change he speaks of, and accompanies it in every stage of its progress. It is the grace of humility. We learn this from the occasion on which the words of my text were spoken, they were spoken in reply to a question of the disciples, respecting those who were to be raised to the highest distinction and authority in the Messiah's kingdom; and we learn it from the sentiment and phraseology of the fourth verse, in which our Saviour says, "Whosoever shall humble himself as this little child, the same is greatest in the kingdom of heaven."

Now, the primary idea which is here suggested, seems to be indifference to the objects of worldly ambition. The disciples were mainly occupied with imagining the grandeur which they were destined to reach in the temporal kingdom which they expected their Lord to establish. Upon that they had set their affections; to that they were continually and eagerly aspiring; and they were ever anxious to know which of them would be chosen and honoured to fill the most dignified station, and to enjoy superiority over his brethren. Jesus told them, that these were vain, delusive, and unworthy thoughts; that they must renounce the love and the pursuit of such grandeur as that about which they were so solicitous; that they must feel as little desire for it, and as little concern about it, as if they were little children, to whom its attractions and its very existence were unknown. And the lesson which he thus inculcated upon them, is substantially applicable to all who look for an entrance into the kingdom of heaven, understanding that phrase in the sense which he attached to it. You cannot be supposed to fall into the mistake which they committed respecting the Messiah's kingdom; and do not, therefore, need the correction and the caution upon that point which he administered to them. But, notwithstanding this, you may be under bondage to the same carnal ambition which perverted their minds, and be loving the world and the things of the world as if that were the proper object of your regard, and as if that were to be your only and your sufficient portion. And my friends, let me ask you if this be indeed the case? Are you specially attached to those possessions and gratifications which this earth is capable of affording? Is it your most anxious inquiry, what shall we eat, and what shall we drink, and wherewithal shall we be clothed? Do your riches increase, and are you setting your heart upon them? Are you covetous of power, and honour, and fame, joyful when you acquire, and miserable when you lose them? Is secular business withdrawing your attention from the one thing needful? Are you devoting your precious time to sensual pleasure, or to idle amusements? In short, has a present world so much ascendency over your minds, as to keep them away from God and from eternity? Then you are not converted. You are under that very dominion from which the Gospel is intended to

emancipate you. You have not embraced that spiritual and glorious liberty of which it entreats you to accept. And before you can consider yourselves as in a state of safety, you must exchange those carnal dispositions by which you are now enslaved, for the holy and heavenly dispositions which are inculcated by our Saviour, as absolutely and in every case indispensable. You must just do what the disciples did. As soon as they were rescued from the delusion under which they had long laboured, as to the nature of the Messiah's kingdom, as soon as they were convinced that it was a spiritual kingdom and not of this world,they became like little children, and cared no more for the greatness which had formerly dazzled their imagination and engrossed their thoughts; and not only parted with all, that they might follow Christ, but took joyfully the spoiling of their goods, and willingly exposed themselves to every variety of hardship and suffering, that they might obtain the crown of life and immortality. So must it be with you, my friends, if you would enter into the kingdom of heaven. As to the things of this world, which have hitherto enthralled your thoughts and affections, you must become dead and indifferent to them, they must no longer occupy the throne of your hearts, you must regard them no more than if you were little children, whose minds are not enlarged enough to comprehend them, and whose passions are not yet kindled to desire them, and whose capacities are not yet competent to relish and enjoy them. And instead of running the race of earthly ambition, and panting after objects which might gratify your love of pleasure and exalt you above your fellows, you must be content with whatever lot your Lord may have assigned you, and have your heart elevated above the sordid dust on which you tread, and be looking beyond all that is most splendid and fascinating in this terrestrial scene, to the purer and the brighter regions that lie beyond it. This is a humility by which you shall be finally exalted. And it is thus you are to prove the reality and the completeness of your conversion.

There is another species of humility which our Saviour may be reasonably supposed to have in his eye, as entering into the idea, or constituting the evidence of conversion. I mean humility with regard to the whole plan of salvation. The disciples did certainly so far believe in Christ, and love him. But the pride of their hearts was not yet fully subdued. They were still the victims of intellectual and moral prejudice, which prevented them from submitting to the instruction and guidance of their Master, with that entire surrender of themselves as to belief, and temper, and practice, which his divine authority claimed. And it was not till after his ascension into heaven, and the effusion of the Holy Spirit, that they exhibited convincing tokens of having renounced every high thought which exalted itself against the knowledge and obedience of Christ, and given themselves up implicitly and unreservedly to his direction in the way of life. Now, a similar

change must be effected in every one of us; we must become in this manner, and to this extent, humble as little children, that we may be the true disciples of the Saviour, and finally enter into the kingdom of heaven. Nothing can be more obviously necessary than this. The very nature and character of the Gospel presupposes that we are in such a state, as to require us to entertain the most abasing views of our own insufficiency. It is a light for them that sit in darkness, a remedy for those who labour under disease, a plan of deliverance for creatures who are exposed to danger, a source of consolation for the sorrowful and hopeless,—a scheme of mercy and redemption for a world involved in guilt, depravity, and destruction. Without it we are utterly undone; and, therefore, we are called upon to receive it, and to acquiesce in it, with the utmost lowliness and resignation, and instead of putting any trust in our own capacities or attainments, to repose with unlimited, unsuspecting, confidence in the wisdom, the grace, and the power of Him who has come in the name of the Lord to save us. This is the frame of mind to which we must all be brought, and in which all of us must be found working out our salvation, if we would have evidence of our being converted, and secure admission into the heavenly world. There is nothing so natural to us as a proud and overweening conception of our own merit. There is nothing, at the same time, so hateful to the God from whom we have apostatised, or so directly opposed to our reception of saving truth. And, consequently, there is nothing from which, in its every feature and operation, it is so necessary for us to be rescued. If this pride be allowed to reign in our souls, the Gospel must then, of course, be treated with neglect or contempt. It is only when this pride gives place to humility that we are in a condition to receive the Gospel, to understand its value, to submit to its authority, and to relish its blessings.

But let me ask you, my friends, if you are conscious of having this temper and disposition prevailing within you, and if it is permitted to exercise a governing influence over all the regards which you pay to the Gospel, and to Him who has revealed it? If, instead of applying for instruction in divine things to the wisdom which cometh from above, and thinking it enough to warrant your belief in any doctrine that it is supported by "thus saith the Lord," you make your own understanding the test of religious truth, and will not admit into your creed what does not coincide with your own system of opinions, though plainly taught in your Bible, and endea vour to explain away the scriptural statements which you do not like;-if, instead of resting upon the righteousness and strength of Him who is your appointed Redeemer, and who is mighty and able to save you to the uttermost, you place your dependance upon something in yourselves, and plead your own merit as the ground of your acceptance, and trust to your own resources as if

these were in any measure adequate to your spiritual necessities;-if, instead of putting yourselves under the absolute government of Christ, and saying to him, in the language and in the spirit of unreserved submission, "Lord, what wilt thou have me to do!" you rest satisfied with a partial respect to his authority, and refuse to perform certain painful duties which he has enjoined, and remain attached to certain favourite indulgencies which he has prohibited ;—if this be the case, then pride still lords it over your heart and conduct, and with no truth nor reasonableness can it be said that you are converted. In these and in all other respects, you must become as little children. Sensible of your ignorance, and of your incapacity, by any effects of unenlightened reason, to make yourselves wise unto salvation, you must sit in the attitude of humble, unpretending learners, at the feet of the great Prophet who speaks to you from heaven, and receive, in faith and love, all the gracious words which proceeded out of his mouth, or which he has instructed his apostles to communicate, and, with the simplicity of new born babes, desire the sincere milk of the Word that you may grow thereby. Conscious of your weakness and inability as to all that respects your deliverance from sin, you must lean upon the arm of your mighty Redeemer-you must look to him as the only foundation of your confidence and your hope-and remembering, that when you were ungodly, and without strength, he died for you, amidst all the alarms which guilt and danger may awaken in your breast, you must flee to him as your refuge and your help, and trust in the encouragement which he gives you when he says, in the tone of compassion and omnipotence, "Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God." Convinced that you have neither authority nor wisdom to regulate your own ways, and that without divine superintendence you could not walk steadily and perseveringly in the path of righteousness, you must place yourselves under the rule of the King of Sion, you must take the law from his lips, you must yield a cheerful, and impartial, and constant obedience to his holy commandments,-supplicating him for help to resist temptation, and animated with the hope of that glory which is to crown your stedfastness in the work of the Lord. It is only when such is the temper which you cultivate, and such the principles which you cherish, and such the conduct which you maintain-it is only then that there is evidence of the work of conversion having beer accomplished in your hearts, and that you can entertain the hope of being ultimately partakers of that happiness to which the Gospel of the kingdom has taught you to aspire.

And now, my friends, having made these remarks on this most interesting and important subject, I request your serious and considerate attention to them. Some, no doubt, will be disposed to ridicule what has been said as fanciful or fanatical. Ridicule, however, is not the proper test of any truth, least of all is it the test of

divine truth; and let such scoffers be warned, at least if they will not believe, that the day is approaching when their mirth shall be turned into mourning, and when the words of the Lord Jesus, which they now mock at, shall judge and condemn them.

There are others who cannot take the trouble, or make the sacrifices, which conversion requires at their hands, though they are convinced of its necessity. But why talk of trouble or of sacrifices, when the fruit of it all is to be everlasting life? Nothing surely can be reasonably grudged, which is to terminate in such a great and glorious result. And He who calls upon you to be converted, and to become as little children, has promised to be your help in the time of need, and to give you his Spirit to make you a willing and obedient people in the day of his power.

out.

And there are not a few who know that they must be converted, and intend to give themselves to this necessary work, but who procrastinate from day to day, and from year to year, as if every thing else were of greater consequence than turning to God. Ah! my friends, time is short, and time is uncertain. Trust not to a future opportunity, while it is called to-day. The period to which you are delaying your conversion, may never arrive. Death may snatch you away in an unexpected moment; and then a moral change is impracticable and impossible. Now then repent and be converted, that your sins may be blotted "Turn ye, turn ye; for why will die?" ye And let those who have turned to the Lord, and tasted that he is gracious, abound in thanksgiving for his distinguishing and converting mercy. Let them magnify him who has called them out of darkness into his marvellous light. Let them live to his praise and glory. Let them be encouraged, by the assurance that He who has begun a good work in them, will perform it until the day of Christ. And let them, by their prudent counsel, and by their holy example, and by their pious labours, study to convert their brethren to the knowledge and obedience of the truth, and thus co-operate with that blessed Redeemer, to whom they owe their eternal hope, and who has left upon record that awful yet compassionate declaration, "Except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye cannot enter into the kingdom of heaven."

:

What wonders are there in the mighty deep! And how many lessons are yet to be learned from the count

We felt considerably less creatures which it contains! interested of late, in contemplating the wisdom and goodness of God, as manifested in the natural history of two little inhabitants of the changeful sea; the Hermit Crab, and the Parasite Actinea, whom we conjoin for a reason that will afterwards appear.

The Hermit Crab can scarcely be unknown to those who have ever engaged in the delectable amusement of gathering shells on the sea-shore. It inhabits univalves, It is and is generally supposed to be a young lobster. called the Hermit Crab, we suppose, because it lodges in the cavity of the shell, as in a cell. It needs protection, for its tail or hinder part is very tender, being destitute of the crust, by which the body and claws are protected; and would be very liable to injury, were it not inserted in the shell. On the least alarm it shrinks the animal is protected by the shell. into its adopted dwelling-place, so that the whole of The shell in which it is found when young, is often the little silver trochus. As it increases in size it removes, and often enters into the common welk; and when it is fullgrown, it takes possession of one suited to its magnitude, and is then found in the large roaring buckie, which, in common parlance, we believe, comprehends both the buccinum undatum, and the fusus antiquus of Conchologists.

We shall not do our little marine hermit the injustice to suppose, that it takes violent possession of the shell, during the life-time of its rightful proprietor. We are the more inclined to acquit it of all such piratical practices, from knowing that there is another Soldier, or Hermit Crab, in the East Indies, which, when it has outgrown the shell in which it dwelt when young, is often seen selecting a larger habitation from amongst the empty shells on the shore,-trying several before it can be satisfied,-contending for a fine looking shell with others that are on the look-out for a new house; and if suc

cessful, parading up and down in the presence of its

weaker antagonists.

We may see the goodness of God in teaching our own little red-coated Hermit of the deep, instinctively to seek, and pertinaciously to cling to, the refuge which has been provided for it; and when we behold it secure from its persecutors, within its shelly habitation, should we not think of the Lord's far greater goodness to us, in providing for us an impregnable city of refuge,—a hiding-place from the wind, and a covert from the storm, in which, amidst the munition of rocks, we may bid defiance to our most formidable foes.

The

But it is time that we should turn to our Actinea, for which we do not know any English name. Actinea is a Zoophyte, that is, it partakes of the nature both of a vegetable and an animal. There is one kind of Actinea very common on our shore, adhering to rocks like a little hemispherical mass of brown jelly. In this state it seems lifeless; but if observed for any time when covered with sea-water, it will soon be seen to spread out its numerous feelers like the petals of a flower, so as considerably to resemble a double Ane

mone.

As far as we know, however, the Parasite Actinea has not been observed by the naturalists of this country. In the "Annales des Sciences," published at Paris in August 1836, it is mentioned by M. Dugès of Montpellier as a new species. It has been known to us for more than seven years, and it is not very uncommon on the shore of this parish. We were indebted, however, to the French naturalist for some interesting traits of its history. It always attaches itself to a univalve shell, and never to any but those that are inhabited by the Hermit Crab, Pagurus Bernhardus. only shell on which we have observed it, is the Natica glaucina, better known to our children by the name of China Welk; but though we observed the Hermit in the shell, we were not aware till we read the article by

The

M. Dugès, that the Zoophyte was never found adhering to any shells except those which the Hermit Crab in habited.

As they are thus conjoined, and as the mouth of the Zoophyte is always opposite to the mouth of the crab, M. Dugès supposes that the Actinea feeds on the remains of the Hermit's food. What a beautiful arrangement is thus made by Him, who is wise as he is good, for the support of one of his seemingly helpless creatures! Who knows but the little Zoophyte, feeble though it seems, may, in some way or other, play the part of the lion's provider? M. Dugès has given it the name of L'Actinie parasite, and we are not disposed to quarrel with the specific name, provided it be understood in its original sense. Greek scholars know, that the word parasite originally signified one who takes his food along with another, an invited guest, and not as it did afterwards, one of those contemptible beings, who gain their welcome to the feast by flattery. Our little Actinea gains his welcome by his worth. He is a tentmaker, and he enlarges the bounds of the Hermit's habitation, so as to form a pavilion of finer workmanship than any of which Solomon, in all his glory, could ever boast. That the Hermit is a gainer by the partnership, is evident from this, that he might at any time, if he were so disposed, dissolve it. He has only to quit his hold, and the poor Actinea would be at the mercy of He keeps his hold, because the Actinea, by enlarging his mantle, and strengthening it by a horny substance which he has the power of secreting, forms a cell suited to the increasing size of the crab, and capable also of containing its numerous eggs. See we not here the advantage of dwelling together in unity; and how much it is the duty of the strong to be helpful to the weak, and that even the weak may have the pleasure of contributing to the happiness of the strong.

the waves.

As God, we doubt not, has adorned this little creature that we may adore Him in his works, we must not fail to mention the beauty of this unnoticed Actinea. It is of a soft consistency, not unlike that of the human eye. The milky white ground is marked with numerous dots of the most brilliant purple; and from these dots or pores proceed, at times, very delicate threads of the richest violet colour. Surmounting the shell, it thus forms for the little Hermit a lobed cloak of richer colouring than any imperial robe.

"Who can paint like nature!" and if nature's God adorn with the most brilliant colours of the rainbow this little Zoophyte, which forms the link betwixt animate and inanimate creation; and if he bind together by a covenant of reciprocal advantages these tiny messmates of the deep, O, will he be forgetful of those for whom, at an inconceivable price, he has provided the hidden manna, and the pure streams of the water of life; and whom beholding in the face of his Son, he has bound unto himself in a better covenant, saying, "I will be merciful unto your unrighteousness; your sins and your iniquities will I remember no more.'

ON GRATITUDE.

BY THOMAS BROWN, ESQ., Author of the " Reminiscences of an Old Traveller." GRATITUDE, like some other words flourishing in our dictionaries, is of very doubtful application, and seldom witnessed as an active principle in the commerce of life. Considered as a great moral virtue, it is valued by every one, and there is nothing, to all appearance, which hurts the pride and feelings of a man so much as to be supposed insensible to, and ungrateful for favours received, and benefits conferred. Such, however, is the depraved and callous state of the human heart, that a feeling predominates the very reverse of that of gratitude,

and no man who has had much experience will attempt to deny or controvert this melancholy fact.

Where does man, for example, shew a proper degree of gratitude towards his Creator? He may, no doubt, attend public worship, and also, in private, address his prayers and supplications to the Author of his existence; but where is the warmth of devotion, the melting of the soul in gratitude, love, and praise? From the moment man enters on the stage of the world, till the period of his dissolution, he is engrossed by the cares, and trials, and pleasures of this passing scene; his thoughts are rivetted to the earth, and he looks unmoved on the sublime objects of nature, and is unaffected by these demonstrations of a Creator's mercy and love. He sees, every morning, the sun rise above the horizon, to give life to the vegetable world, to illumine the whole face of nature, and to animate and cheer the heart of man, and he passes on without being lost in admiration of the sublime spectacle, and without pouring forth his whole soul in gratitude to the Great Source, the divine Architect of this stupendous fabric. Does man ever think of the days of his infancy, when an unseen power watched over his cradle, when an unseen hand protected him from danger, when a goodness beyond compare fashioned his body, and gradually developed the faculties of his mind? Does he ever look back to a more advanced period of life, when the Almighty, in mercy, ied him through dangers innumerable, prospered all his undertakings, and bestowed upon him so many unmerited blessings and comforts? Then, when the last stage of all is closed by mental and physical decrepitude, the same beneficent power sheds a mild influence over the sick-bed of the dying, and cheers the drooping soul in the last moments of existence. In the midst of all such blessings, thoughtless man passes on, seldom or ever thinking on the Source of these ever renewed mercies. His reasoning powers are directed towards other objects, his desires confined to the possession of worldly wealth and distinction, which he knows, in a few short years, must pass into other hands, and he is convinced, at last, on the borders of the grave, that he has been drawn away by shadows, and misled by the gay and airy phantoms of his deceitful imagination.

Such, to the end, is his thoughtlessness, his inconsistency, his ingratitude! He leaves the world with regret, and to the last moment of existence he clings to the false and glittering treasure which had been the summit of his ambition, as if its possession was destined to be the sole object of an immortal soul!

If we look to the concerns of life and the conduct of man, throughout the whole of his earthly pilgrimage, we see the same coldness, indifference, and ingratitude towards his brethren of mankind. Engrossed by his own private views, he thinks of nothing but self-aggrandizement, in defiance of the ties of nature and the laws of morality. There are, no doubt, splendid exceptions to this sweeping observation. There are characters which appear upon the stage of the world, still retaining the stamp of a divine impression, and whose kindly and benevolent feelings are ever actively manifested in assisting, in relieving, and in loving their fellow-creatures; but these form a small proportion only of the great family of mankind, and the reward of their good actions is in their own feelings; for from those on whom they bestow their kind and affectionate regard, they seldom experience any thing but coldness, indifference, and ingratitude. With what constant solicitude and care does the fond mother watch over the early years of her rising offspring! What pains are taken to rear the young plant, and to water it with the tears of tenderness and love! How anxious are the parents to furnish the young mind with lessons of virtue and goodness, to expand the faculties, that they may, in due time, blossom into usefulness, and produce fruits in | abundance,—to prepare their children to act their part