alleviate this oppressive load, but the great and precious Promises. But you have found yourself-unable to lay hold of them for yourself. At times, you have been unable to find a promise, which exactly suited your case.

Now you may be under this dark cloud again! Prepare for it by stealing a march upon Satan, -or rather prevent it, by so acquainting yourself with what God is doing at home and abroad, that Satan shall be unable to find room for his temptations, or to present your case in a desperate light. This preparation you may make, by keeping your eye upon the successive trophies of Grace, as they arise to prove the fulness, freeness, and power of Grace.

And have your hand at God's work, as well as your heart in it, if you would be holy or happy. The activities and ingenuity of wise Zeal, are fine preventives against both temptation and depression. A collecting-round once

a quarter, or once a month, associated with the circulation of Extracts and Sketches, is one of the best antidotes for low spirits and dismal thoughts. You will both see and hear much, that will reconcile you to your own trials, and tend to relieve your own fears. You could never despair, and but seldom despond or droop, if you would only take God's advice, and "look upon the things of others," as well as upon your own things."

And do consider, how holy Zeal will enable you to keep on good and peaceable terms with all your Christian friends. You cannot afford to quarrel, nor to take offence at trifles, whilst you have to carry on your work for God. You can never have time, nor be tempted, to embroil yourself in the disputes or quarrels of others, whilst you have a great public cause to sustain, and endear, and adorn.

O, like ESTHER, "you are come to the king

dom at a time when all the influence of your

character and spirit is wanted by the Church of God, and will tell upon the highest destinies of a redeemed and regenerating world. Well might HANNAH MORE say, "Had any patriarch

or saint been asked, in what age and in what nation he would have wished his lot assigned him, is it not more than probable that he would

have replied, In Great Britain, in the beginning of the Nineteenth Century!" Study then that Pauline Oracle," It is good to be zealously affected always in a good thing," Gal. iv. 18.

ALLEGORY.

SHESHBAZZAR'S FIG TREE.

SHESHBAZZAR sat under "his vine and his fig tree," as in the days of old; solitary, but not disconsolate; infirm in body, but not enfeebled in mind. His friends called to congratulate him

upon his safe arrival. The time of the evening sacrifice was just ended, and they found him sitting under his fig tree. It was, like himself, an aged tree; but, unlike him, it was barren! It had not only ceased to bring forth fruit in its season, but its leaves also were withering, and many of its branches were bare. The nightingale had forsaken it as an unsafe shelter for her young, and the turtle-dove felt too much exposed amidst its scanty foliage. The raven of Tadmor alone perched on its topmost bough, and the wind from the wilderness moaned amongst its branches: but still Sheshbazzar continued to sit under it. He had sat under its verdant canopy with the wife of his youth, and with the children of his old age; and the tree seemed to him to have decayed as they died one by one, and to be dying with himself. It was, therefore, dear to him, although barren. All his tenderest associations and recollections hung

upon it. But his friends disliked it, even to aversion, because it was an emblem to them of nothing but his bodily infirmity and domestic desolation. In his character, he was still as a tree planted by the rivers of water, and bearing fruit in his old age. His spirit was still stately as the cedars of Lebanon, flourishing as the palms of Olivet, and dewy as the mulberry trees of Baca. His friends saw and felt all this, and said to him," Let us cut down the fig tree; why cumbereth it the ground? You cut down the fig trees on the hill of the vineyard, when they became barren; why spare this tree in the valley?" Sheshbazzar looked up to it, and saw that there was nothing in its visible aspect to plead for it. A shower of withered leaves fell from it, as the startled raven on the top flapped his heavy wings, and flew away towards the wilderness. The old man was silent. He seemed to his friends about to say, "Cut it