term borrowed from our physical constitution, in which strong mental emotion affects our whole frame. The "bowels of His mercy yearned over us when He saw us wandering in darkness, misery, and danger, and "the day-spring from on high visited us." And we, too, are to have the yearning bowels of compassion; quickness of feeling for pity, sympathy, and relief as we may be able. And should we, unhappily, be involved in dispute, be grieved, be injured, readiness to forgive, according to the Divine model, from which all our blessings flow, on which all our hopes depend, must be our habitual temper. Not forgiving by halves,-forgiving, but not forgetting, but " forgiving one another, EVEN AS God for Christ's sake hath forgiven us." Such is the temper we are to cultivate. Speaking in human fashion, IT IS GOD'S TEMPER TOWARDS US. Can we neglect it, can we, especially, cherish an opposite feeling, and allow it to break forth in practice,—and yet walk in clear, undisturbed communion with Him inwardly? If thus we do, can the Holy Spirit be otherwise than grieved?

How can two walk together unless they be agreed? And what is thus required from us but agreement with God, in the whole length and breadth and depth of our spirit? Thus are we followers and imitators of God as affectionate and beloved children, ever anxious, not only not to disobey, but not to grieve, Him. See the necessity of attending to much that man so generally overlooks, that even the church is in danger of rather " walking as men," than "as becometh saints." Nor do these reflections refer to what is comparatively trivial; useful, perhaps, to our completeness, but not necessary to our safety. Sustaining the entire Christian character, we fulfil the holy and benevolent purposes, in relation to ourselves and others, of Him "who hath called us to glory and virtue." Furnishing an unblemished Christian example, we are faithful witnesses for God. Not grieving the Spirit, we rejoice in His holy comfort, and go on to experience His fully saving power. Nor is the task difficult. Branching out into numerous instances, it implies the development of one principle, obedience to one commandment. Dutiful, affectionate child, is it labour to thee,-is it not thy delight,-to avoid grieving the parent whom thou lovest and veneratest?

Grieve the Spirit? Where will this end? Yes,-where will this end?-We close here; but it is with this solemn suggestion. Let full communion with the Spirit be preserved, and who shall set limits to the happiness and holiness into which thou shalt be continually advancing? Interrupted, a shadow falls on thy soul, and soon shalt thou be shorn of thy strength. The climax of scriptural language sets before thee a dreadful reality,-grieving, vexing, quenching, the Spirit. Avoid the first step, and thou art safe. Be negligent here, and words cannot express, thought cannot measure, thy danger. GRIEVE NOT THE HOLY SPIRIT!

MISCELLANEOUS COMMUNICATIONS.

THE SICK PASTOR TO HIS CHURCH.*

BELOVED IN THE LORD,-Mercy, grace, and peace, be multiplied to you from God our Father, and from our Lord Jesus Christ, by the communication of the Holy Ghost. I thought and hoped that by this time I might have been present with you, according to my desire and resolution; but it has pleased our holy, gracious Father otherwise to dispose of me, at least for a season. How great an exercise this is to me, He knows, to whose will I would in all things cheerfully submit myself. But, although I am absent from you in hody, I am in mind, affection, and spirit present with you, and in your assemblies: for I hope you will be found my crown and rejoicing in the day of the Lord; and my prayer for you night and day is, that you may stand fast in the whole will of God, and maintain the beginning of your confidence, without wavering, firm to the end. I know it is needless for me, at this distance, to write to you about what concerns you in point of duty at this season, that work being well supplied by my brother in the ministry: [Yet] you will give me leave, out of my abundant affections toward you, to bring some few things to your remembrance, as my weakness will permit.

It

In the first place, I pray God it may be rooted and fixed in our minds, that the shame and loss we may undergo for the sake of Christ, and the profession of the Gospel, is the greatest honour which in this life we can be made partakers of. So it was esteemed by the Apostles: they rejoiced that they were counted worthy to suffer shame for His name's sake. is a privilege superadded to the grace of faith, which all are not made partakers of. Hence it is reckoned to the Philippians in a peculiar manner, that it was "given" to them, "not only to believe" in Christ, "but also to suffer" for Him. It is far more honourable to suffer with Christ, than to reign with the greatest of His enemies. If this be fixed by faith in our minds, it will tend greatly to our encouragement. I mention these things only, as knowing that they are more at large pressed on you.

The next thing I would recommend to you at this season is, the increase of mutual love among yourselves; for every trial of our faith toward our Lord Jesus Christ is also a trial of our love toward the brethren. This is that which the Lord Christ expects from us,-namely, that, when the hatred of the world doth openly manifest and act itself against us all, we should evidence an active love among ourselves. If there have been any decays, any coldness herein, if they are not recovered and healed in such a season, it can never be expected. I pray God, therefore, that your mutual love may abound more and more in all the effects and fruits of it toward the whole society, and every member thereof. You may justly measure the fruit of your present trial by the increase of this grace among you. In particular, have a due regard to the weak and the tempted; that "that which is lame" may not be "turned out of the way, but rather let it be healed."

Furthermore, brethren, I beseech you, hear a word of advice in case the persecution increases, which it is like to do for a season. I could wish that

* Written, by Dr. Owen, from Lord Wharton's, Bucks.

you would appoint some among yourselves, who may continually, as their occasions will admit, go up and down from house to house, and apply themselves peculiarly to the weak, the tempted, the fearful, those that are ready to despond or to halt, and encourage them in the Lord. Choose out those to this end who are endued with a spirit of courage and fortitude; and let them know that they are happy whom Christ will honour with this blessed work. And I desire the persons may be of this number who are faithful men, and know the state of the church: by this means you will know what is the frame of the members, which will be a great direction to you, even in your prayers. Watch now, brethren, that, if it be the will of God, not one soul may be lost from under your care; let no one be overlooked or neglected; consider all their conditions, and apply yourselves to all their circumstances.

Finally, brethren, examine yourselves as to the spiritual benefit which you have received, or do receive, by your present fears and dangers,—which will alone give you the true measure of your condition: for, if this tends to the exercise of your faith, and love, and holiness, if this increases your valuation of the privileges of the Gospel, it will be an undoubted token of the blessed issue which the Lord Christ will give unto your troubles. Pray for me, as you do ; and do it the rather, that, if it be the will of God, I may be restored to you; and, if not, that a blessed entrance may be given to me into the kingdom of God and glory. Salute all the church in my name. I take the boldness in the Lord to subscribe myself,

Your unworthy Pastor,

and your servant for Jesus' sake,

J. OWEN.

P.S.-I humbly desire you would in your prayers remember the family where I am, from whom I have received, and do receive, great Christian kindness. I may say, as the Apostle of Onesiphorus, "The Lord give to them that they may find mercy of the Lord in that day, for they have often refreshed me in my great distress."

EFFECTS OF LIGHT ON ANIMAL AND VEGETABLE LIFE.

THE chemical effects of light on animals, vegetables, and other substances, have much engaged the attention of philosophers. It is well known that most of the discous plants follow the course of the sun; that they attend him in his evening retreat, and meet his rising lustre in the morning, with the same unerring law. It is also well known that the change of position of the leaves of plants at different periods of the day is entirely owing to the agency of light. This influence was first observed in plants growing in the shade; and in darkness they are without colour. The term etiolation has been given to this phenomenon, and the plants in which it takes place are said to be etiolated or blanched. Gardeners avail themselves of the knowledge of this fact, to furnish our tables with white and tender vegetables. Davy found by experiment that red rose trees, carefully excluded from the light, produce roses almost white. He also ascertained that this flower owes its colour to light entering into its composition, and that white flowers contain no light. M. Biot is of opinion that the colours descend as the course of vegetation develops itself. The young buds of the oak and

* Traité de Physique.

the poplar, for example, are of a red colour, bordering on orange: from this they pass to a reddish orange, and soon to a green. When the flower of the honeysuckle blows, its colour is of a pure white, and passes into a pale yellow. But vegetables are not only indebted to the light for their colour: taste and smell are likewise derived from the same source.

Light contributes greatly to the maturity of fruits and seeds. This seems to be the cause why, under the burning sun of Africa, vegetables are in general more odoriferous, of a stronger taste, and more abounding in resin. From the same cause it happens that hot climates seem to be the native countries of perfumes, odoriferous fruits, and aromatic resins.

The action of light is so powerful on the organism of vegetables, as to cause them to pour forth torrents of pure air from the surface of their leaves into the atmosphere, while exposed to the sun; whereas, on the contrary, when in the shade they emit an air of a noxious quality.

The human being is equally dependent on the influence of light. Animals in general droop when deprived of it; they become unhealthy, and even sometimes die. When a man has been long confined in the dark, his whole complexion becomes sallow; he becomes languid, and frequently dropsical. Men who work during the night, and sleep during the day, never present the vigorous look of health which distinguishes day-labourers. "Those who live in the deep valleys of mountains, (as, in those of the Alps,) in close narrow streets where the sun never shines, in mines or dark caves, and who are rarely exposed to the light of day,-present a pale, relaxed sallowness of skin, which contrasts with the ruddy freshness of country people and others living much in the sun and open air.'

Worms, grubs, and caterpillars, which live in the earth or wood, are of a whitish colour. Moths and other insects of the night are likewise distinguishable from those which fly by day, by the want of brilliancy of colour. The difference between those insects in northern and southern parts is still more obvious.

The parts of fish which are exposed to light, as the back, fins, &c., are uniformly coloured; but the belly, which is deprived of light, is white in all of them.

Birds which inhabit the tropical countries have much brighter plumage than those of the north. Those parts of the birds which are not exposed to the light are pale. The feathers on the belly of the bird are generally pale, or white; the back, which is exposed to the light, is almost always coloured; the breast, which is particularly exposed to light in most birds, is brighter than the belly.

Butterflies, and various other animals, of equatorial countries, are brighter-coloured than those of the polar regions. Some of the northern are darker in summer and paler in winter.

There is not a substance, exposed to the sun's light, that does not experience some alteration. Camphor, kept in glass bottles, crystallizes into the most beautiful symmetrical figures on that side of the glass which is exposed to the light. Yellow wax, exposed to the light, loses its colour. Gum guaiacum, reduced to powder, becomes green on exposure to the light. Vegetable colours, such as those of saffron, logwood, &c., become pale or white.

It is at present universally acknowledged, that light is a body or fluid existing independently of all other substances, and possessing its own

* Combe's Physiology.

characteristic properties or phenomena; that it is subject to the laws of attraction and repulsion; and that it may be analysed, by means of the prism, into several rays of different tints. From the nature of these different tints arises that variety of shades which paints the face of nature; and whatever pleasure we derive from the beauty of colouring is owing to the different refrangibility of light, each object sending back to our eyes those rays which the peculiar structure of the surface is best adapted to reflect. In this sense the blushing beauties of the rose, and the modest blue of the violet, may be considered as not in the objects themselves, but in the light that adorns them in those robes.

"The most curious composition of light is that of whiteness: it is an assemblage of all the colours of the prism in due proportion. Whiteness, therefore, or the solar light, is always compound; it is produced by a copious reflection of the rays of all sorts of colours. Blackness, on the contrary, is produced by a total absorption of the incidental light, which, being stopped or absorbed in the body, is not reflected outwards, but refracted within: hence it is lost, and produces darkness. The greater or less affinity of the several rays with various bodies is, no doubt, the cause that, when a pencil of light falls upon a body, some rays enter into it, while others are reflected. Thus are formed the pellucid stream, the green sea, the azure sky, the varying colours of the pigeon's neck, the opal, the mother of pearl, &c."

The velocity of light is much greater than that of sound. A clap of thunder is not heard till some time after the lightning has been seen. Astronomers have found that it may be measured; and accurate investigations have been deduced that light passes with a velocity of about 167,000 geographical miles in one second, or that it passes from the sun to the earth in little more than eight minutes. This observation has been confirmed by Dr. Bradley's ingenious theory of the aberration of the lights of the fixed stars.*-The Water Cure Journal.

ANECDOTES OF THE REV. WILLIAM ROMAINE, A.M.†

IN 1749 Mr. Romaine was chosen lecturer of St. Dunstan's in the West. In the person of his predecessor two lectureships were united,—the one endowed, and founded by Dr. White for the use of the benchers of the Temple; the other a common parish lectureship, supported by voluntary contributions. Mr. Romaine was elected to both, and continued some years in the quiet exercise of his office, till the faithful discharge of it raised clamour and opposition. The Rector then thought fit to dispute his right to the pulpit; and occupied it himself during the time of prayers, in order to exclude him. Mr. Romaine appeared constantly in his place, to assert his claim to the lectureship, as well as in proof of his readiness to perform the office. The affair was at length carried into King's-Bench; the decision of which deprived Mr. Romaine of the parish lectureship, but confirmed him in that founded by Dr. White, and endowed with a salary of £18 a year. Lest this should be removed from the parish, the use of the church was granted him: but, as Lord Mansfield's decision was, that

* Philosophical Transactions, xxxv., p. 637, and xix., p. 1.

+ Abridged from the Life of Romaine, by the Hon. and Rev. William B. Cadogan, A.M.