Daily Bread. FRIDAY. "Behold I make all things new."-REV. xxi. 5. Make me rich, for I am poor- And eye-sight to the blind. It is a universal change-all things become new. It is a blessed leaven that leavens the whole lumpthe whole spirit, and soul, and body. Original sin infects the whole man; and regenerating grace, which is the salve, goes as far as the sore. This fruit of the Spirit is in all goodness-goodness of the mind, goodness of the will, goodness of the affections, goodness of the whole man. He gets not only a new head to know religion, or a new tongue to talk of it, but a new heart to love and embrace it in the whole of his conversation. In those natural changes spoken of before, there are, as it were, pieces of new cloth put into an old garment; but the gracious change is a thorough change-a change both of heart and life. -Boston. SATURDAY. "He that toucheth you, toucheth the apple of his eye."— ZECH. ii. 8. "Tis God's almighty love, His counsel and his care, Preserves us safe from sin and death, Believers have God for their guide and gain; he that meddles with the saints of God, assaults God himself. He that lifts up his hand against them, lifts up his hand against God; though they have many enemies, yet they have one friend that hath more strength than all their enemies. A ragged saint is dearer to God than a glittering emperor that wants grace.-Dyer. SABBATH. "Love our Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity."-EPH. vi. 24. My one desire be this, Thy only love to know; To seek and taste no other bliss, No other good below. Are you Are you willing to give as much for Christ now as you would give in a time of sickness, when you are lying upon your death-beds-when the soul sits upon the lips, and is ready to take its leave? willing to give as much now in health as you would give in a time of sickness? Oh! when a man lies on his sick-bed, and Death knocks at his door, Christ then, it may be, would be very precious to him. Oh! what would he then give for a Christ? Those in Noah's time that never regarded the ark all the while it was a-building-yet when the flood came, what would they have given for an ark then? What would you give for Christ at that time when you are upon a death-bed, ready to be delivered by your death-bed to your cold grave? Certainly, Christ is as precious now as he will be then.-Nallon.. MONDAY. "Loving to slumber."-ISA. lvi. 10. These drowsy souls can only hear Men are rocked asleep in the cradle of security the devil's cradle. Satan makes them believe heaven be got with a wet finger; and that they may may come thither, whatsoever their course and conversa tion be; and that they may put off their repentance to the last year of their lives; nay, to the last month of the last year; nay, to the last day of the last month; and that that one day is as good as five thousand, to make their peace with God in; and that it is a small matter to repent, and that a Lord have mercy upon me will serve thy turn to bring thee to heaven. This despising and undervaluing the heavenly inheritance, is a grievous God-provoking sin.-Nalto TUESDAY. "Art thou come to call my sin to my remembrance, and to slay my son ?"-1 KINGS xvii. 18. Afflictions, though they seem severe, In mercy oft are sent: They show the prodigal his sin, Afflictions are messengers sent to us on this errand, to remind us of our debts, by awaking our consciences, When bitter and setting our sins in order before us. things are written against us, it is with this design, to make us possess our iniquities. When God distrains upon our comforts, and removes them from us, it is to remind us of the arrears of our rent. These sharp methods, which God takes to put us in mind of our sins, are intimations how severe the reckoning will be if we never take care to get them pardoned.— Henry. I will forewarn you whom you shall fear."-LUKE XII, §. Secure within the verge of hell; Fear the Lord. In lowly awe and losing zeat; And bless me with a godly fear, And plant that guardian-angel here! Let no man think lightly of sin, which lays the sinner open to the wrath of God. because of his dreadful wrath. Tremble at the thoughts of sin, against which God has such a fiery indignation. Do you think this is to press you to slavish fear? If it were so, one had better be a slave to God with a trembling heart, than a freeman to the devil with a seared conscience and a heart of adamant. But it is not so; you may love him, and thus fear him too; yea, you ought to do it. though you were saints of the first magnitude.-Boston. THURSDAY. "The Spirit itself beareth witness with our spirit that we are the children of God."-ROM. vii. 16. Saved by blood I live to tell What the love of Christ hath done; This we may know, without ascending into heaven, or prying into unrevealed secrets. If you are be lievers indeed-all such the Father gave to Christ.John xvii. 8. If you savingly know God in Jesus Christ--such were given him by the Father.-John vii. 6. If you are not of the world-if you are crucified and dead to it, and are strangers in it-if you' keep Christ's Word, by the receiving of its sanctifying effects and influences into your hearts, and practise it to the end-happy are ye.-Flavel. A Stamped Edition, for circulation by Post, is ale published, price 2d. each Number. Edinburgh: Printed by JOHN JOHNSTONE, residing at 12. Windsor Street, and Published by him at 2, Hunter Square. London: R. GROOMBRIDGE & SONS. Glasgow J. R. M NAIR & Co.; and to be bad of any Bookseller throughout the Kingdom. THE CHRISTIAN TREASURY. 385 THE REDEEMER'S PEOPLE. BY THE REV. ANDREW ELLIOT, FORD. In a former paper, we directed the attention of our readers to the "Day of the Redeemer's Power," and we now consider the interesting and cheering promise made to him, in reference to that period of his mediatorial dignity and grace: "Thy people shall be willing in the day of thy power, in the beauties of holiness from the womb of the morning: thou hast the dew of thy youth." The people of Christ are they who, being given to him in the eternal covenant of redemption to be ransomed by him and brought to glory, are in due time called by his sovereign grace, and made the subjects of his saving power. Chosen according to his everlasting purpose of mercy, and made to know, and believe, and embrace the truth-to submit to the rod of his strength-they not only profess allegiance to him, but yield him a real homage and a sincere obedience. They are the subjects of his spiritual kingdom, governed by its laws, and enjoying its privileges-owning him as their king and lord, trusting exclusively in his allsufficient salvation, and dedicating themselves unreservedly to his service. And it is here promised-promised by Jehovah the Father, who appointed the Saviour to his mediatorial work, and exalted him to his mediatorial throne -that the Redeemer, in the day of his power, should not only have a people, but they are characterized as a willing, a holy, and a numerous people. compulsion; and their subjects are frequently only reluctant slaves, who obey merely because they dare not resist, or find that their resistance would not be effectual and successful. But no such weapons as theirs-no such weapons as those which furious and persecuting zealots are accustomed to wield, who strive to force men to believe and to do what their judgments condemn and their consciences abhor-no such weapons as these are to be seen in the hands of the Redeemer. The weapons of his warfare, and by which his triumphs are achieved, though mighty and effectual, are spiritual, and suited to the spiritual nature and character of his kingdom. The rod of his strength is his Word, which is powerful only as it enlightens the understanding, satisfies the judgment, and engages the affections. The power which he employs is simply the power of divine truth carried home with energy and effect to the soul by his enlightening and quickening Spirit, and made to take possession of the heart. He compels none to serve him. He uses no external violence, and puts no compulsatory restraint upon the wills and the judgments of men. He will own none as his people who do not give him their hearts, and whose affections as well as reason are not engaged in his service. And, hence, the power which he employs in the day of his strength is a moral and spiritual power--removing prejudices and error, enlightening the mind, and imparting a saving knowledge and conviction of the truth, and thus leading to the love and obedience of the truth. Accordingly, his people engage in his service with readiness and by choice, and render him a reasonable and a voluntary submission. They are willing 1. It is promised that the Redeemer should, in the day of his power, have a willing people: "Thy people shall be willing in the day of thy power;" that is, they shall not only submit to thee, but submit to thee cheerfully-they shall not only serve thee, but serve thee freely, readily, they cheerfully yield themselves to his doand affectionately. And this devotedness of minion and authority, cheerfully place themheart and soul, let it be remembered, is charac-selves at his disposal, and cheerfully consecrate teristic of all the Redeemer's people. It is his themselves to his service. power, indeed, that makes them his people, and that produces this willingness. They did not always possess it. On the contrary, they were once his enemies, determined rebels against his throne, and hostile to his cause and interests. Once, instead of loving and serving him, their minds were full of enmity against him; and the language of their feelings and of their actions, if not of their words, was: "We will not have this man to reign over us." They became not his, nor submitted to his sway, till, in the day of his power, he subdued and vanquished them. But, then, what are the weapons by which he has conquered and won them to himself? They are not those carnal weapons which compel men to feign obedience, and to act a hypocritical part. Other conquerors subdue men by physical force, and by the power of external No. 33. The word which our translators have rendered "willing," literally signifies, as commentators have observed, a voluntary or free-will offering; and it seems to imply the most unreserved readiness in believers to give themselves and their all to the Redeemer. So was it on the day of Pentecost, and immediately afterwards, when the haughty and selfish crucifiers of Christ were, in that day of his power, made willing, by divine grace, not only to accept of his salvation and to confess his name, but without the least reluctance to devote their all as a free-will offering to his cause and service. And so is it ever with genuine Christians. They regard it as their highest privilege and honour to be engaged in the service of the Redeemer, and it is their supreme pleasure and. delight to obey him and advance his cause. October 10, 1845. They count none of his commandments to be grievous, and they experience no other restraint than the constraining influence of the Redeemer's love, teaching them to "judge that if one died for all, then were all dead; and that he died for all, that they who live should henceforth not live unto themselves, but unto him that died for them, and rose again." Such are their views of the Saviour's excellency, and such their gratitude for his infinite condescension and grace, that they feel that nothing they can part with can be too great a sacrifice, and that all that they can do is infinitely too little. and of his service necessarily identify itself with the love of holiness? Can any one volus tarily become the subject of such a kingdom, and cheerfully govern himself by its laws, and cordially prosecute its interests, and still con tinue under the dominion, and live in the practice, of sin? No; sooner shall light con found itself with darkness. There cannot be a willing people to the Saviour-willing to join themselves to him in an everlasting covenant that shall never be forgotten-willing to be bis and willing to serve him-without being a hoir people. To suppose there might to suppo that we might give our hearts and affections to him, and our powers and exertions to the evil one, whose works he came to destroy, is to sup pose an evident impossibility, and what is self contradictory. It is to suppose that we can serve both God and Mammon, and be at once obedient and rebellious. What takes place in the day of the Redeem er's power, when divine energy is put forth, and the light of the glorious Gospel of Christ is car ried home, by the illuminating and quickening influence of the Spirit, to the heart and con made willing? It is by a moral and spiritua change which has been effected in his sou giving a new and heavenly direction to his thoughts, and desires, and affections. And it what does this very willingness consist! It con sists in a cordial and entire surrender of ourselves to the Redeemer; and its language will ever be, like that of Paul: "Lord, what wilt thou have me to do?" And if the heart be thus made right with the Lord, the life will also be right. If the internal dispositions be holy, the outward conduct and deportment will also be holy. When the will is graciously renewed, and we are brought with cheerfulness and alacrity to enter on the service of our Lord and Saviour, we shall, we must, also be brought to serve him in truth and righteousness, all the days of our life. 2. It is promised that the Redeemer, in the day of his power, should have a holy people: "Thy people shall be willing in the day of thy power, in the beauties of holiness.” And this part of the promise properly and naturally follows the former. This will readily appear-the Saviour himself is holy. As God, he is essentially and immutably holy. He is an absolutely perfect being, and therefore infinitely removed from sin, which is moral imperfection. "He is the Rock, his work is perfect; for all his ways are judgment: a God of truth, and without iniquity; just and right is he." And as Media-science of the sinner? How is such an one tor-that is, as God in our nature, the incarnate Jehovah―his character is the very perfection of moral excellence. He is the holy One, and the just. Even in the days of his flesh, though he tabernacled in our sinful world, and was made in the likeness of sinful flesh-though he was continually surrounded by the workers of iniquity, and exposed to all those evil influences which prove so fatal and corrupting in our experience, his life was purity itself: "He did no sin, neither was guile found in his mouth." "He was holy, harmless, undefiled, and separate from sinners." And can less be said of him now-now that, seated on the right hand of the Majesty on high, and arrayed in all the effulgency, and displaying all the fections of the Godhead, he appears the brightness of his Father's glory, and the express image of his person? His kingdom is a king- In the phrase, the beauties of holiness, there is dom of truth and righteousness-its laws are thought by some to be an allusion to the vestholy, and its interests are just the interests of ments of the Levitical priests. When they ap eternal truth and holiness. Hence the lan-peared before God in the performance of their guage of the Father to him: "Thy throne, O God, is for ever and ever: the sceptre of thy kingdom is a right sceptre. Thou lovest righ teousness, and hatest iniquity; therefore God, thy God, hath anointed thee with the oil of gladness above thy fellows." Is he a King? He is the king of righteousness, and the king of saints. Is he a Redeemer? He "gave himself for us, that he might redeem us from all iniquity, and purify unto himself a peculiar people, zealous of good works." Is his name Jesus? It is because he "saves his people from their sins." We ask, then, can any truly and willingly submit themselves to him, and give him the homage of their hearts, and not, at the same time, throw off the yoke and the bondage of iniquity? Must not the love of him per official duties, they came clothed in the gar ments of the sanctuary-garments appointed by God himself, and that were emblematical of the purity and holiness which became the house and the worshippers of Jehovah. In like manner, the people of the Redeemer are repre sented as robed in the beauties of holiness. They put on righteousness as a clothing, and are beautified with the garments of salvation. The internal principles of grace, implanted in their hearts, manifest themselves in their outward conduct, and exert a hallowed influence on their lives; and those graces of the Spirit by which the genuine believer is distinguished may well be denominated the beautics of holines. They dignify and ennoble the man. They are the true ornaments of his nature, as a moral THE PASTOR'S DAUGHTER. THE PASTOR'S DAUGHTER. PERHAPS no country ever presents a more charming prospect to the man of reflection than is seen in the southern part of New England, towards the close of May, or the beginning of June. Those who have ever spent this season of the year in that part of the country need not that I should attempt to describe the loveliness of many of its natural scenes. The traveller is here often seen to stop his horse as he arrives at the top of an eminence, and, in a kind of giddy surprise, to throw his eyes around him on the little glens filled with the abodes of contentment and peace, and richly stored with the choicest gifts of nature. There is likewise something so exhilarating in this scenery, that the heart, not frozen by the cares of this life, must at times warm and throb with gratitude to the Author of all mercies. Before such scenes, too, will the soul of the Christian be raised to that world where every beauty is lasting and perfect. It was at such a season of the year, at the close of a pleasant day, that I was slowly ascending a high hill, as the clear red sun was setting with such a stillness as might attend his last adieu. From the top of the hill I could count the spires of several village churches rising among the thick trees; while just under its brow a most beautiful river was smoothly gliding between the luxuriant hills which stood on either side, till it reached the Sound, with which it mingled with a gentle murmur, as if unwilling to be swallowed in oblivion. On the banks of the river below me stood a pleasant and quiet village, which seemed to unite activity with innocence and contentment. I rode slowly onward, now admiring the wisdom and goodness of God in the grandeur of the distant hills, or now gazing at the penciled floweret, which seemed to wave its fragrant head in gratitude, or the little songsters that were pouring forth their last evening lays in praise, ere they betook themselves to rest. It was not long ere I approached the house of an aged clergyman, where I had engaged to call. A plain, neat house was pointed out as the residence of the minister; and it was not till I had loudly and repeatedly knocked, that the door was opened by the venerable man himself. He received me with parental kindness of look, though a calm expression of grief, and a finger placed upon the mouth, gave me to understand that he was now actually weighed down by unwonted sorrow. 44 My only child, a daughter," said the good old man, on whom I leaned for support in my old age, is now no more! It was this very morning that I was thanking God for the blessing of such a child to cheer me during the remainder of my pilgrimage here; but she, too, is taken away, that my heart may not be too strongly bound to earth! She was my all in this world; but she was the Lord's; and he to whom I had devoted her in baptism, and to whom she had lately given herself, has called her to himself. Oh! I ought not to lament that which is doubtless her gain; and I know There is a shore Of better promise; and I know at last, We two shall meet in Christ, to part no more!"" 387 I was about to inquire into the particulars of his grief, and to offer the feeble consolation of earthly sympathy, when I saw the door-yard filling with a lifeless corpse of a beautiful girl of about sixteen great number of people, who were bringing in the years old. The venerable minister pointed to the group as an explanation of his sorrows-he covered his face with his handkerchief, but was refused the alleviation of tears. The collection of people consisted of most of the villagers, who had left their houses on hearing of the accident which I am relating. The young lady, whose lovely corpse was now placed in the entry of the house, had attempted that afternoon, in company with a companion, to cross the river on an errand of mercy to a poor sick family on the opposite shore. She was the subject of a late revival of religion, under the labours of her own beloved father; and she had now begun to exercise that benevolence in which the disciples of Jesus will be engaged for ever. The two young ladies were in a little skiff, under the direction of a man who was afterwards discovered to be somewhat intoxicated. By carelessness or incapacity to act, he upset the boat in the deepest part of the river. The man and one of the girls saved themselves by clinging to the sides of the boat till assistance could arrive; but the lamented Eliza S was separated from the others. The still waters soon wrapped their liquid sheets around, and encircled her in their bosom! She "Fell into the weeping brook: her clothes spread wide, And, mermaid like, awhile they bore her up like a creature native and endued To muddy death!" She made a few faint struggles, then softly sank, no more to rise. A few bubbles rose and broke on the surface of the water, just in time to inform those who had come to save, that her immortal spirit had for ever fled. They carried the body on shore, where every suggestion of medical aid was exhausted in vain. endeavours to recall the cold clay to life. After the last hope of effecting this was over, her remains were brought by the feeling villagers to her father's house. And it was these remains at which we were now gazing. The countenance was still fair and highly intelligent; and so composed that it seemed almost impossible that the spirit should not be still slumbering within. We all gathered round, and all felt ourselves to be too near the grave not to be silent and solemn. The aged father leaned upon his cane as he bent over the cold form of his child; and though he did not weep, yet every one saw that his grief was too big for tears. He stedfastly gazed at the beautiful face of his Eliza, whom he had so tenderly loved, and who he too well knew could never more gladden his heart, or receive his blessing. His remembrance of the past and his anticipation of the future seemed to struggle for ascendency over his feelings. He gazed-and though for a time he said not a word, yet I plainly saw that his every tie to earth was now severed, and his looks seemed to pray "Soon may this fluttering spark of vital flame The hardy villagers looked upon their pastor as if they would willingly have taken a share of his grief, had it been possible, into their own bosoms; but they were too wise to attempt to offer any audible expressions of sympathy; for they well knew that at a time like this, few could do this with profit. The women stifled not their grief, but gave vent to their feelings in tears; the youth and children poured out, in the fulness of sobbings, the overflowings of their hearts; while the little child stood mute with astonishment, and seemed conscious that he was a witness of sorrow too big for utterance. The pastor had now so far exchanged the feelings of a father for those of a Christian as to be able to speak, and inquired for "little Mary." "Here!" said a little girl of about eight years of age, who had been holding him by the skirts of the coat, and weeping as if her heart would break, "here I am! Oh, my dear Miss Eliza-my Miss Eliza !" The old man took her little hand within his, and could then mingle his tears with hers. After giving vent to his feelings, he spoke with a calmness that was truly surprising. "Let us stop our crying, Mary!-we cannot do Eliza any good, and she does not need our tears. She sleeps sweetly, and we should not mourn over her rest.” Asleep! and will she wake again ?-oh, will she once more awake?" asked the weeping child with great eagerness. "She will wake again; at the morning of the resurrection she will awake from this sleep. Do you remember what she told you last spring ?" "What? -when she came to see my sick mother at the poorhouse, and took me home and told me I might live with her, and she would never leave me ?-Oh, yes! I remember she told me how that God was a father to good little children, and that all good people go to God when they die, and live with the angels in heaven. Oh! she told me this, and I know she has gone there. She was too good not to be with God; for she used every day to ask me to kneel down with her in her little room, and then she would pray to Jesus Christ for me-she is certainly gone to heaven. But what shall I do without her to teach me my lesson, and to tell me about God? Oh, my good, best friend is dead!" "Not your best friend, my child. God is your best friend; and if you will give him your heart, he will be your father; and whenever you die, you will go to him, and meet your friend Eliza too. You shall live with me while I live; and when I die, there will be one from under my roof to follow me to the grave. And you," said he, turning to his affectionate congregation, who were almost all, to an individual, standing before him, "you will receive my sincere thanks for your kind sympathies in this hour of sadness. Though my heart is almost ready to burst with its pangs, yet I should be wanting in duty towards you, and towards my Master, should this opportunity pass without my urging its improvement. You are aware that, among all the doubts of hardened men, none have ever dared to deny that we are mortal. How often have we all been called to stand around the lifeless clay of our friends and neighbours; and as we conveyed them to the cold mansions of the dead, how solemn has the voice come to our ears: 'Be ye also ready; for in such an hour as ye think not the Son of Man cometh !' Who stands before me whose heart has never been touched with grief at the loss of friends? Where is the person who has never been called to weep at the departure of those who were dear? The mother whose offspring perished from her bosom in the very bud of its existence-the parent-the child-the husband-the wife, have all alike seen the gates of the eternal world open, and their friends and neighbours pass out, never to return! We all know these warnings; we know that we must soon follow; and why can I not persuade you, my friends, to look beyond the verge of the grave, and even now begin to lay up treasures in heaven? Oh! do this, for you are immortal, and cannot cease to exist; do this, for you are probationers, and must one day die; do it, for your time is un certain, and you may die soon. When this morning's sun arose, the corpse that is lying before me was in the flush of health, and bade fair to sojourn here for a long time to come. But she is gone, and has left us in this world till a few more rolling suns shall see us placed as low as herself. You will soon follow your pastor to yonder grave-yard; for besides the infirmities of age, I have an assurance within me that I shall have but a few more opportunities to warn you to prepare for death. Consider, then, your being, your destiny, your characters, your lives, and see whither you are going. Let the voice of my dear child reach you as it issues from the shroud: Unto you, O men, I call; and my voice is to the sons of men!" " The good man ceased; for the multitude of feelings and thoughts which rushed upon him choked his utterance; but there was something in his calm and heavenly look, in his solemn and trembling voice, and in the attending circumstances, that made an inpression upon his audience never to be effaced. We all were mute, as if listening to a voice from the world of spirits; and I presume no one will ever be free from impressions there received; and it is not unlikely that the great day of account will exhibit results of that occasion which were never imagined on earth. On a cold autumnal day, but a short time since, I visited the grave-yard of this village. I was alone, and the memory of the past came rapidly before me as I saw the neat white marble raised over the sleeping dust of Eliza S- Her father, too, was lying beside her; for he was right in predicting that his labours on earth were almost closed. The father and mother were here waiting for the arrival of the great decisive day; and the daughter was lying be tween them. They were lovely in their lives, and in their deaths were not separated." I was sad while viewing the simple inscriptions on the stones, and not a little affected when I found the following lines on the tomb of Eliza, which appeared to have been etched with a pen-knife by her father ere he died : "Beneath this stone, so feebly reared, Here shall the sighs of grief be heard, Here rest, Eliza, free from pain, And free from mortal care; Parent and child will meet again, And wip'd be every tear !" —Todd's Simple Sketches. THE SCHOOLS OF THE PROPHETS. THE most remarkable class of religious teachers under the ancient economy were the prophets. The tre quent allusions to them in the Scriptures show that, at certain times at least, they existed in considerable numbers. In the days of Elijah, when Jezebel had decreed that the prophets of the Lord should be de stroyed, Obadiah, the governor of the house of Ahab, took an hundred prophets and hid them in caves, and saw their wants supplied. These hundred prophets were, we suppose, a part only of the whole number in the land. The prophets were the divines, instructors, and guides of the Hebrews in piety and virtue. They re sided oftentimes in some retired place, where they were resorted to by the people, at the new moons and other stated periods, for consultation and instruction in things pertaining to God. They were supported by the free gifts of the people, and held themselves aloof from all worldly employments, devoting their whole time to instruction, study, meditation, and prayer. The first seminaries or places of instruction among |