of a good master; and especially, of the blessed effects produced on his own heart and character by the habits, influence, and example of a consistently pious family. I remember occasionally visiting, either with my parents or my uncle, two maiden ladies, distant relatives of the family; but I do not remember visiting them twice in the same habitation. They seldom resided more than a year in a place, and generally entertained their friends with long details of the inconveniences of their present residence, and the advantages of another to which they were contemplating a removal; but it invariably turned out that things were not as they expected, and they were destitute of some con was employed in doing what a mere porter or errand boy might do; and which, if he were kept to it for seven years, he should never learn his business. This was a great relief to the anxious parents. The father, in reply, wrote a cheerful, encouraging letter, containing, among others, the following observations :-"I am obliged to your master for causing you to acquire so useful a piece of knowledge as how to clean shoes. I hope you will take pains to do it properly. You may not always have occasion to do it, but you will through life find it an agreeable piece of independence, never to be obliged to wear dirty shoes for want of a servant to clean them. As long as it is your duty to open the shutters, I hope you will make a point of hav-venience which they had been accusing them down the first in the street. This will be to your credit and your master's interest. Many a boy has opened and shut the shop of which he ultimately became the master. Your master engages, in seven years, to teach you the business. I believe he is a man of honour, integrity, and competent skill, or I should not have placed you with him. Having confidence in him in these respects, I apprehend he is likely to know better than either you or I can do, what is the best method and order of teaching. It is probable, that though he has a general knowledge of the business, he may consider some of his journeymen better qualified to teach some particular department. At any rate, his varied engagements would frequently interfere with his devoting much personal attention to a young apprentice. All this may be safely left in his hands, especially as he is so judicious and honourable, as to let you see the worst of the engagement before you are bound to abide by it." The youth had sense enough to perceive the justice of his father's observations. He made no farther objection to being bound. During his apprenticeship, he became affectionately attached to his master and all the family. At the expiration of his time, he remained in his master's service, and ultimately became master of the shop, where he carried on a prosperous business for forty years, and then retired on a comfortable competence. He is now an old man; but to the present day he speaks with grateful pleasure of the happy years spent in the house tomed to enjoy. They could not bear the confinement of a town after having been used to a spacious garden and extensive prospects in the country. They could not bear the country after having been used to the society and accommodations of a town. In the city, it was impossible to enjoy the glorious spectacle of sunrise; in the village, they bewailed the absence of gas lamps to illuminate, and policemen to guard them as they proceeded on their evening visits. The last disappointment was always the greatest, because the present habitation was expected to combine with its own accommodations those of all former abodes, however incompatible with each other; and the absence of any one of these formed a distinct subject for repining. "It is not at all what we have been used to. It is very different from what we expected:" and life was passed in vain expectations and wearying disappointments. "It is not at all what I expected," said a young professor of religion: "instead of being all pleasantness and peace, I find difficulties in the ways of religion that I never anticipated. I did expect when I became religious, that I should find among religious people nothing but kindness and goodness; that I should easily conquer all my evil propensities, and that I should always be happy in the prospect of heavenly blessedness; but I am completely disappointed in many respects. There are many restraints and sacrifices on which I did not calculate, and to which I find it hard to yield. I am sometimes reproved by those who are by no means perfect themselves. Some of those who but you will carry within you a wicked at first seemed most kind and affection-heart. Watch and pray, that ye enter ate, most ready to encourage and urge me forward, now treat me with comparative coldness and neglect. Besides, I meet with so many trials and discouragements, both from within and without, that I often fear I shall not hold out to the end." "Ah," said my uncle, "religion is not in fault for all that. You are disappointed because you have expected from it what it never promised to bestow; and you have not obtained its pleasures because you have neglected to apply it to the purposes for which it was designed. There is no engagement whatever, that you shall find the way to heaven a smooth and flowery path. On the contrary, you are expressly and faithfully told, that strait is the gate, and narrow is the way, which leadeth unto life;' that we must through much tribulation enter into the kingdom of God;' that we must deny ourselves and take up our cross daily and follow Christ, Matt. vii. 14; Acts xiv. 22; Luke ix. 23. Then you have no right to expect perfection in fellow Christians, for it is not to be found here; and it certainly is not in yourself. There is not a just man upon earth, that doeth good, and sinneth not,' Eccles. vii. 20; there fore look well to yourself with a holy jealousy, and look candidly towards others. 'Bear ye one another's burdens, and so fulfil the law of Christ,' Gal. vi. 2. If reproved or admonished, be more concerned to detect and correct evil in yourself than to retort upon the reprover. Honour goodness wherever you see it, but do not expect too much from men; you are nowhere told to make them either your standard or your trust. Cultivate, too, a spirit of humility; do not expect much notice to be taken of you, and then you will not be disappointed if you receive but little; and let it be your great concern to live and walk, 'not as pleasing men, but God, which trieth our hearts,' 1 Thess. ii. 4. Be more solicitous about duty than comfort, and then you will find that comfort comes in the way of duty; for in keeping his commandments "there is great reward," Psa. xix. 11. "You have no warrant from first to last to leave off watching and striving against sin; for, until you reach heaven, you will not only be exposed to a wicked world and a tempting devil, not into temptation,' Matt. xxvi. 41, and wait continually on the Lord, for they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength;—they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint,' Isa. xl. 31. If you steadily persevere in such a course, notwithstanding all the troubles and discouragements of the way, you will find that it is a way of pleasantness and a path of peace; and, moreover, that the path of the just is as the shining light that shineth more and more unto the perfect day,' "" Prov. iii. 17; iv. 18. I will sum up, by a few remarks made by my uncle, on different occasions. To those who complained of present duties and circumstances, as "what they had not been used to," he would reply, "What we have been used to is by no means necessary to our well being: some indulgences and habits are better broken off than retained; and new duties should never be reckoned a hardship, for they serve to expand our powers of enjoyment, and to open to us new scenes of gratification. 66 Disappointment from creatures is the result both of their insufficiency and our inordinate expectations. They must be disappointed who forsake the fountain of living waters, and seek their supplies from broken cisterns that can hold no water," Jer. ii. 13. "Change of situation is but a change of disadvantages. He who thinks to get rid of all his troubles and vexations by changing his condition, will always be both disappointed and discontented. In most situations, though things may not be so good as our groundless fancies had expected, they are not so bad as our discontented murmurs would represent them. He was a sensible man, who, when asked at night whether the day should be distinguished by a red mark of joy, or a black mark of sorrow, replied, Truth, master, I think neither; but a good brown ochre.' 6 "Every situation in life has its advantages and disadvantages. We ought not to expect to retain all the advantages of a former situation, and lay claim to all the advantages of a new one, or to get rid of the evils of both. The present is a state of mixture and imperfection. Nothing fulfils our expectations. Every thing discloses evils that we did not anticipate. This should tend, not to make us weary and dissatisfied of life, but to wean us from the world, and willing to leave it; and stimulate us to set our affections on things above, where all is solid, lasting reality, without disappointment, and without imperfection." C. 66 JUSTIFICATION BY FAITH. WHAT is it that justifies a man in a court of justice? the goodness of his cause? is that sufficient? No, verily, no man of common sense will attempt addressing the judge and jury by a long speech, without a single evidence to prove the truth of his statement. My fellow sinners, if your case is good, why do not you prove it? why not bring forward your evidence? why do you act the part of wise men in every instance, but in this most important case? That the apostle James is speaking of the evidence of faith is plainly expressed in the second chapter and the eighteenth verse. "Show me thy faith without thy works, and I will show thee my faith by my works." Good works are the effects of the grace of God, and the sufferings and death of Christ. "Let your light," therefore, so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.' Here upon earth every one of you shall receive according to your faith; but on the day of judgment every one of you shall receive according to your works. Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord, that they may rest from their labours, and their works do follow them, Rev. xiv. 13. Their works do not go before them to divide the river Jordan, and open the gates of heaven for them; but they leave their works behind, tied up in a bundle, as it were, on this side of the river. John saw a great white throne, and Him that sat on it descending towards the earth. He is sitting on the throne of his glory, and every individual of the human race must stand before him; he is dividing the righteous from the wicked, as the shepherd is dividing the sheep from the goats; he is setting the wicked on the left hand, and pronounceth the most awfully just sentence upon them, “Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels," Matt. xxv. But the righteous are placed on his right hand, to hear the joyful sound, "Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world." The books were opened, and Mercy presented the bundles that were left on the other side of Jordan. They were all opened, and the register book was read, wherein all their acts of benevolence and virtue were recorded. And Justice examining the bundles, said, "All right, here they are; thus it is written :- I was an hungred, and ye gave me meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me in: naked, and ye clothed me: I was sick, and ye visited me: I was in prison, and ye came unto me.'" The righteous answered, and said, "Those bundles must belong to some others; we know nothing of that; we recollect the narrow road, the strait gate, and the slough of despond. We remember the heavy burden that pressed so hard upon us, and how it fell off our backs at the sight of the cross. We shall never forget the time when the eyes of our minds were illuminated, to behold the evil of sin, the depravity of our nature, and the glory and excellency of our Redeemer. We felt and experienced his love shed abroad in our hearts. Oh how sweetly and how powerfully it constrained us to love him, his cause, and ordinances! how we panted after communion and fellowship with him, as the hart panteth after the water brooks. We recollect the time, when our stubborn wills were subdued in the day of his power: so that we are made willing both to will and to do of his own good pleasure. We remember the time when we obtained hope, in the merit of the infinite atonement of Christ, and felt the efficacy of his blood applied to our hearts, by the influence of the Holy Spirit of God; and a thousand other things are as fresh in our memories now as ever: but we do not recollect any thing about those bundles of good works. Where was it? when saw we thee an hungered, and fed thee; or thirsty, and gave thee drink? when saw we thee a stranger, and took thee in? or naked, and clothed thee? We do not remember any more than the dead, of ever visiting thee in sickness or in prison, and ministering unto thee: surely those bundles cannot belong to us?" Mercy replied, "Yes, verily, they belong to you, your names are upon them; and besides, they have not been out of my hand since you left them on Jordan's stormy banks.' And the King answered and said unto them, "Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of HUSBANDRY IN CHINA. Chinese harrowing. THE Chinese take credit to themselves for preserving those customs in the original purity which their forefathers have handed down to them. This may be a useful practice in some instances; but it extinguishes the spirit of improvement, and reconciles a man to the use of the most imperfect implements, and to methods of procedure which are tiresome and circuitous in the extreme. This observation is elicited by a reference to the Chinese plough, which is only calculated for stirring the soil, and is very much the sort of thing which a child would contrive were he to be set about the manufacture of that instrument. A labourer, tired of plying the spade, seems to have resolved upon calling the ox to his aid, and for that purpose fastened his shovel to a beam. To one end he attached the docile animal, while he held the other by means of a handle. This is a short, but adequate description of a Chinese plough; for though besides the beam and the handle, there is a sledge upon which the share rests, it merely serves to give it stability, and takes no part in turning up the soil. But it has its advantages, as the hind can lay it upon his shoulder, and carry, it in company with the harrows, to the place of destination. These harrows are represented in our illustration, which conveys withal a sketch of Chinese scenery from the hand of a native artist. The object of a native husbandman, in preparing his field for a crop, is to form the soil, the manure, and a certain quantity of water into an equable mixture. A plough so contrived, as to be capable of laying up the mould in a graceful ridge, might seem to be unnecessary, where the work is covered with water; and paint, and neatness of finish, superfluous where the beast, the workman, and his implement, are bespattered with mud from morning to night. When the mixture is duly prepared, rice plants are brought in baskets from a bed where the seed had been thickly sown, and plunged, by the hand, into the mud, at convenient distances from each other. The labour is not agreeable, seeing a man is compelled to wade, amidst clay and water, to hold a bundle of dirty plants in one arm, and to bury them in the liquid bed with the other. But the cheerfulness of the national character does not forsake the workman at his employment; and he knows, that when his day's work is done, he shall receive enough to maintain himself and his family. This part of the process is per rity of peace, and the cheering hope of harvest; and shall have an abundance of water to moisten it in the time of drought. "And when the blade was sprung up, then appeared the tares also," Matt. xiii. 26. But the modes of treatment were very different: in one case, the wheat and the tares were allowed to grow together until the harvest; in the other, they are severed from it with a bold, and doubtless, a well instructed hand. formed in the spring, when the change | that is, he shall till the soil in the secuof the monsoon introduces the rainy months of that season, and thus favours the designs of the husbandman. At that time, the traveller complains that his garments are spoiled by mildew, and that the beauty of his instruments, if he happens to be a surgeon, is marred by rust; but the swain rejoices, because the moisture that distils so copiously in showers and vapours from the atmosphere, promotes the growth and developement of his tender seedlings. He has the forethought to store up water in ponds and dykes, and to intercept the progress of the streamlet as it rolls at the bottom of the valley; but drought exhausts his treasures, and he beholds, with delighted eye, the gathering cloud and the brooding mist. The Creator is mindful of him, and sends a sky so fraught with water, in a vapoury form, that the moisture trickles down the walls of the apartment, and the fair face of the sun is not seen, at times, for forty days. After the rice has been transplanted, the next step, in the progress of the husbandman's toil, is to supply it with moisture, when the showers are insufficient for that purpose. This is done by means of a bucket suspended by lines, which are held by two men. These take their station at a convenient distance from each other, and then, by relaxing their arms, let the bucket down into a reservoir of water, which, after it is full, is brought up and emptied, by a sudden jerk, in the neighbouring field. The field is generally a shallow lake, formed for the specific end of holding water, as the nature of the rice requires a constant supply of that element. There are varieties called upland rice, which will grow freely upon the slope of a hill, but they are not much cultivated in the southern parts of China, as being inferior, either in productiveness, or in the quality of the grain. While the few are employed in the business of irrigation, the many are dispersed over the field, scrutinizing each plant in its turn, to see whether some pernicious weed has not already began to sprout near the root. When this is the case, he pulls up the seedling from its miry bed, and plucks away its intruder, and then replaces it in its proper situation. In this part of the cultivator's oversight and care, we behold two things, which bring to our mind the language of Scripture. "He shall pour water out of his buckets," Numb. xxiv. ; | But in defiance of this foresight and decisive practice, weeds spring up and require the application of the hoe at two successive periods. This instrument is of stouter form and workmanship than its counterpart among us; it has a short handle, and thus compels the labourer to stoop very low to reach the ground. But as the limbs of a Chinese are pliant, and he is naturally assiduous, he has not been hitherto prompted to give it a length better suited to an easy posture. While plodding at this irksome toil, he carries a fan in the girdle that confines his vesture. With this he cools himself from time to time, and relieves his back by throwing the body into an erect attitude. Among us, the labourer wipes off the spontaneous exhalations that condense upon his skin by the handkerchief; in China he dries them by a cool breeze, which he awakens by his fan. The latter is the more economical method, and therefore very characteristic of a frugal nation. While the men are thus occupied, the mistress is seen bending her footsteps towards the field of labour, with a staff across her shoulder. At one end is suspended a pitcher of water fresh drawn from the spring, at the other a tray spread over with different kinds of provision. With her left hand she leads her little son, while her daughter carries a basket filled with the basins, cups, and the rest of the apparatus used for making tea. When the corn is ripe, which happens in August or September, the reaper puts in his sickle or hook, and the corn is cut exactly in the same manner as with us. But instead of a wagon or cart, the shoulders of the patient native execute the office of 'carting.' The corn, after being tied up in sheaves, is subsequently bound up in bundles. One of these is transfixed by one end of a staff, and another by the other end, so as by their arrangement to resemble the scales of a balance. The whole is then placed upon |