gings of his providence. When "the Sun of righteousness ariseth with healing in his beams," then the spiritual spring commences, and the new creation smiles. These changes, however, both in nature and in grace are gradual. We are not instantaneously plunged into the cold and darkness of winter; neither are we all at once warm. ed and dazzled with the strength of a midsummer sun. It is a mercy that we are not; and strongly marks the wisdom and the goodness of divine Providence. But as the days are lengthened, and our part of the globe gradually falls more directly under the solar rays, the earth gets warmer, the sap is drawn upwards in the plants and trees, and the earth assumes the gay and splendid livery of spring. So in the great seas toward the poles, as the sun gathers strength in becoming more verticle in those parts, the prodigious masses of ice in those seas melt away; mountain after mountain breaks, dissolves, and swells the tides, and overflows the boundaries of the ocean.

Thus gradual also are the effects of the beams of our spiritual Sun, both on the church at large and on its individual members. When a revival takes place in the church, it begins in one family, or in one congregation; it spreads to another and another-from parish to parish—from city to city -from village to village-till it covers a whole province, or a country. Religion, when it pros, pers, kindles and spreads like the flame in a forest, from tree to tree, and from bush to bush, till the whole wood becomes one universal conflagra,

tion.

Behold,' in this sense, how great a

' matter a little fire kindleth!'

Equally gradual is its progress in an individual. The mountains are levelled; and the valleys are exalted. Like the ices at the poles, first one lust, or one vice is broken off, or melted down, and then another, till the whole man is changed, and becomes altogether a new creature.

It must be confessed, however, that there is no rule without exceptions. Sometimes a warm day bursts on us at once, almost in the midst of winter thus, in some instances, the change wrought in conversion is so sudden, and so great, • as to challenge the admiration of all around, and they are ready to say, as of the blind man restored- Is this he that was born blind?'Is this he that was given to profaneness and all uncleanness?-Or with the wicked prophet in his parable- Lo! What hath God wrought!'

Again, the return of spring, at least in this country, is often checked by intervals of severe, inclement weather; and the more so when the season is earlier than usual. When, as we said, summer appears coming on us at once: vegetation is pushed forward by the genial warmth, the trees bud, and perhaps blossom, when a sudden reverse of frost takes place, nips the swelling buds, and withers the opening blossoms. So is it oftentimes with young converts, especially with those called from a state of open profaneness,

The change is so obvious and so great, that they appear transported, as it were, to another climate-to another world. A spiritual summer is come suddenly upon them, and they appear, all holy joy, all heavenly love: but in a little while ' offences arise because of the word.' The storms of persecution, or the blasts of temptation nip the opening graces of the Christian life, and the promised fruits of holiness.

The winter is past.'-The TARGUM applies this to the captivity of Israel in Egypt, and other writers to the captivity in Babylon; justly conceiving that a state of captivity and bondage is properly represented by the image of winter, and the restoration of liberty and peace by spring. This applies to the gospel dispensation, and its blessings. Men are by nature servants of sin, bond-slaves of Satan, led captive by him at his will. The voice of the gospel is like the sound of the jubilee trumpet, the proclamation of true liberty. If the Son make ye free, then shall ye 'be free indeed.'

The flowers appear.'-The same Jewish commentators, who consider the winter as a state of captivity or bondage, explain the flowers of Moses and Aaron-of the Old Testament believers, and of the Messiah himself; and the young figs and grapes of the congregation of Israel: and, without following Jewish fancies, or Jewish fables, believers may, under the gospel dispensation, be considered as a kind of first fruits unto

God-the earnest of that grand harvest which shall be gathered by the angels, in the end of the world.

Ver. 14.

Bridegroom. My dove, [who art] in the clefts of the rock, In the secret fissures of the cliffs;

'Let me see thy countenance, let me hear thy

• voice,

'For sweet is thy voice, and thy countenance 'is comely.'

The spouse is compared to the dove for her innocence, affection, and fidelity, of which this bird is the established emblem. The dove is innocent. Be ye harmless as doves,' is one of the precepts of the Saviour to his disciples, who are required in this, as well as in other respects, to imitate their Master, who was holy, harmless, undefiled, and separate from sinners. The cleanliness, the purity, and the modesty of these creatures are also no improper circumstances to describe the followers of the Lamb-a character very similar to that of the dove.

The dove is also the emblem of conjugal affection and fidelity. Constant to her mate, the faithful bird admits no other partner of her affections, and is inconsolable in his loss; insomuch, that to "mourn like the widowed dove," is to mourn and grieve indeed. How truly is this the description of the sincere believer-of the church of Christ. He is the supreme object of her affection

"Whom have I in heaven but thee? and there "is none on earth that I desire beside thee?" Without the divine presence the church is utterly

O that I knew where I might

inconsolable. ' find him!'-She enquires, Have ye seen my 'beloved.?' or, apostrophizing the great object of her regard, Tell me, O thou whom my soul loveth, where thou feedest !'

In the present instance, however, the term may be rather expressive of the bridegroom's love than of the bride's. My love, my dove, my undefiled,' are terms of the strongest tenderness and attachment.

Eastern doves are wont to hide themselves in the clifts and caverns of rocks'. The dove is a feeble, timid, and defenceless bird, and may therefore seek to hide itself in such recesses from the birds of prey, and from the storms of winter. And how often has this been the case with the church? How often has she been glad to hide herself in woods and solitary places, yea in caverns and in clefts of the rocks, to escape the storms of persecution, or the rage of persecutors? and in these retirements to worship God, and enjoy communion with him, out of the reach of the talons of the persecutor. Ah! ye Waldensesye Albigenses-ye Piedmontese-how often was this your case?—Yes, and ye ancient British nonconformists (of whom the world was not worthy) how often have ye retired to some solitary cottage in the wood, or in the forest-how carefully have ye closed the door-the chimney, and every avenue of sound-that the listening informer

1 Harmer on Sol. Song, p. 254.

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