the silence of abstraction, neither did they glide. away unemployed nor unimproved.

Light as was the work, and sweet the labour, yet even in his days of innocence, "Man went forth unto his work and to his labour until the evening."

The luxuriant branches of Eden's bowers, were pruned, and their luscious treasures raised from the ground and supported with careful skill.

The lavish beauty of the flowers was arranged in tasteful order; the frail tendril found a bough around which to cling; and the lofty stem of the forest-tree, was wreathed with the graceful branches of the feeble plant that, but for its support, would have helplessly strewed its perfumed blossoms on the ground.

The beasts of the field waited upon their lord, and were guided by his eye; and intimately acquainted with each of their characters, he held each in a gentle sway, and so directed the powers of each as best to promote the glory of the Creator, and the well-being of the creature who possessed them.

Nor did the attention which his varied employments demanded, even for one moment silence the song of praise which arose, without ceasing, from the soul of man-nor veil, even with a passing shadow, the glory of that smile which was the very sunlight of his being. No, the knowledge, the continual sense of the presence of God in all his works, served but to impart to every occupation the energy of love. The oneness of aim, with which he ever sought to promote his Creator's designs, and to follow the indications of his will, but served to promote the endearing intercourse, the constant communion maintained between the soul of man and his God.

How gladly could we linger over the fair picture,

but it must not be. The voice of the tempter prevailed. The chords were broken, the music of creation hushed, and the soul of man, like a ruined harp, lay all unstrung in the dust, unable to breathe forth aught, save tones of misery and wailing, as the rude blast of the unwonted storm swept over its trembling chords. Need we say that never since that fatal hour, has our morning song of unbroken harmony arisen from this fair earth to the Lord God of Sabbaoth.

Need we recal the wailings of heart-broken misery that arise from the desolated hearth, the tones of strife and hatred that echo from the roof beneath which brethren dwell; or the tumult and carnage of the battle-field, or the war of conflicting elements, -to prove that peace and order no longer reign in this once-beauteous province of the wide empire of the Eternal.

Yes--these do indeed prove the truth of the Scripture record of this fair earth's ruined state; but is there not a voice, a still small voice, yet heard in its clear piercing tones, above the fury of the elemental war, which tells in the bosom of each fallen child of Adam, of conflicting passions, and of tumultuous feelings? of a judgment, whose dictates, even when unwarped, the will refuses to enforce? and of a power, placed by the Creator as his vicegerent in every heart, whose voice is unheeded or unheard amidst the struggle for supremacy amongst the restless inmates of the secret chamber of the soul?

Yet, amidst all these fightings within, these wars without, nature is not wholly abandoned to the confusion and discord which have made such fearful inroads upon the tranquil beauty of her first estate.

The weeping of night, is often-times succeeded by the joy of morning. The voice of kindred love is still heard amongst the dwellings of men. The flag of peace waves over the wreck of the battle-field, and the forest-boughs that have bent their heads, as if entreating their mother-earth again to shield them within her bosom from the lightning-flash, and the fury of the tempest, wave once more their branches, in the perfumed breeze of morn, and nature reflects through her glittering tear-drops, the smiles with which the lord of day seeks to chase from her brow the clouds which had shaded its brightness.

Yes, tones of melody still mingle with earth's lamentings, and scenes of hardly less than Eden's beauty, smile amidst her desert wastes; because that eye hath pitied her, in whose light the wilderness and the solitary place are glad—and his footsteps have trod her paths, whose name is called the "Repairer of the breach, the restorer of paths to dwell in."

It is his hand which has clothed the forest-glades with their verdure, and scattered the flowers of spring upon the mountain's brow.

He has unbound the icy chain of the sparkling torrent that rushes to meet the rippling wave.

The radiant smiles of morn, the calm repose of eve, are emanations of his glory. The full chorus of nature's melody is but the echo of his voice of love.

And more than this-he has unsealed the fountain of social tenderness, and bidden its cool streams refresh man's fevered heart.

He has opened the lips of hope, and told her to whisper of bright things unseen. He has strength

ened the eagle gaze of science, and

bidden her trace

through all the fields of creation's wide expanse,

the bounteous care, the infinite wisdom, of her Almighty Lord. He has re-plumed imagination's drooping wings, and bidden her extend her flight, even to those regions of light and love, which surround the throne of the Most High; and return thence to gladden the distant abodes of men with the brightest colours of her magic pencil, of those things which Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard."

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But why has the Redeemer of the world thus bidden light to shine where all was darkness; and melody to breathe where all was discord? Why does he still maintain this blighted earth in her place amongst the bright constellations of the heavens, and hold her far above the abyss of darkness, into which the judicial sentence of the Holy One had, but for his interposition, condemned her to be cast?

Oh! it is because his heart yearned over the wanderer from his happy flock, that he thus came into the wilderness to seek and restore it.

It is because his bosom overflows with compassionate tenderness towards the sons of men, whose sinless dwelling, in Creation's morn He delighted to visit, that he has received in his heart's core the shaft of Divine Justice, and has hidden it there. And upholding this trembling guilty world by the arm of his might, he has guided her still along her appointed track in the fields of space, and caused his sun to shine, and his genial dews to fall upon her, “filling the hearts of her sentient inhabitants with food and gladness."

This he has done, and more than this. Yes-we would speak it with reverence, he has done all that he can do without the consent of his intelligent

creatures.

The end, the glorious end, to which the desires, the labours and travail of the immaculate Son of God have been directed, is the restoration of the ruined family of man, to a rank among the sons of God, higher, and unspeakably more blessed, than that which they have lost. And why is it that six thousand years of probation have rolled over our world; that for six thousand years, in the exercise of that compassion "which faileth not" the Redeemer of mankind, has "borne and had patience," and still the creatures for whom he has done and suffered so much, continue to frustrate his design?

There is cause indeed to marvel at the madness of delusion which has taken such fatal possession of the soul of man, whom we behold looking abroad with smiles of self-complacent repose over the expanse of a creation, every feature of which ought to awaken in his breast the most grateful remembrance of a Saviour's love; he can say, in his heart at least, if the words find not utterance from the ready lip, "We are gods, we will come no more unto Thee."

But there are some whose hearts have responded to the voice of redeeming love; whose eyes have beheld by faith, the glory of the Saviour; and who have by the most sacred and endearing pledges taken upon themselves the vows of allegiance to his rightful authority.

Do they frustrate his designs? "Let no man judge his brother," but let each one who has enrolled himself amongst the band of God's faithful ones, apply to his own soul, the standard of holiness: yes, and of holy peace and joy, which the word of God declares it to be the will of the Almighty Father, that the present state, the present portion of each of his