brother;" and bear all our burdens, and yet walk with elastic step; and take his yoke upon us too, and find it to be easy; his burden, and prove it light.

You see also on what a broad foundation the promise rests-" He shall sustain you." Not to sustain a trusting soul, however burdened, would be to renounce his very incarnation, to deny a thousand promises, to mock men instead of saving them. "He shall sustain thee." No load can ever come that will be too heavy for his strength. There may be some awful straits even in your earthly life, of which you yourself know nothing as yet, coming on. It is not likely; but suppose the worst. Suppose adversities as wild as the wintriest of weather. Suppose sorrow far darker than the shortest winter day. Suppose temptation shaking the soul as the wind shakes the trees or drives the waves before it. Suppose death coming to you (as he will come in some way to us all) robed in his blackest garb, and casting out his terrors like hail-you will be sustained. The Lord will sustain you. He cannot forget the promise. He cannot forget one who carries it in his heart. He would let the rivers freeze in their fountains, and all the flowers wither to their roots, and the light die out of every star, sooner than fail in the fulfilment of it. He shall sustain thee. His grace is sufficient for thee.

Come, then, and cast your burden now on him. Lo,

he waits with outstretched hand, with longing heart, to receive you to your rest. Listen how he pleads with the strange, tender pleading of sorrow and love, with a pleading which has won home many a wanderer, and which may win you now at last to himself, "Come unto me and I will give you rest."

Voices of the Spring.

Thou renewest the face of the earth.-PSALM civ. 30.

T has been the habit of devout men in every age to

IT

trace God in his works-in the changes of the heavens, the revolutions of the seasons, and the evervarying aspects of the earth. The writer of this psalm makes excursion in a spirit of attentive and appreciating piety through the whole earth, and along the courses of the visible universe. He sees God in all things and everywhere. This psalm is a very system of natural theology. It makes things high and low-the great and the little-plead for God. It would perhaps be to most of us a pleasant surprise to write out, and find by writing out, how many natural objects are mentioned in it; I am not going to name them all, but these are a few. "The heavens, the earth, the light, the darkness, the waters of the firmament, the chariot clouds, the winged winds, the thunder, the mountains, the hills, the rocks, the valleys, the springs and the running streams, the growing grass and the herb for food, the trees-cedar and fir-the birds' nests built in them, wine, oil, bread,

the sea, the ships." What a catalogue of objects! All speaking God's praise.

Also of living creatures there are not a few. "Creeping things, fowls of the heaven, beasts of the earth, cattle, conies, wild goats, young lions, leviathan, men, angels" from the creeping things to the angels he goes up the ladder of life, and hears them all praising the name of the Lord.

The text has reference to the renewal of the earth in spring. We are now quite in the spring season again, approaching the height of it, and before its green flush of tenderness and promise passes way, we may surely, by the blessing of God, derive from it some good influences and some solid instruction.

Here, however, in the minds of some-those who live in cities—an objection may bar the way. "To us it can only be language. We cannot have the living influence of the season around us where we are. Every day we have only the streets and the crowds. We live amid the cares and toils and hastings of heart-fevered men. To speak to us about the spring is only to tantalize us, only to make us smile in carelessness, or to excite in us longings for what we cannot have."

There is no great force in that objection, because with very few is it wholly true. We have the signs of spring around us-not in any great affluence, but yet in number and beauty sufficient to tell us that God is

renewing the face of the earth. A flower in your little garden has the wisdom and beauty of God on it just as much as if it grew anywhere else. Let it be a type to you of all the flowers that are blooming; and the shrubs planted by your doors, and the trees of the neighbourhood-they are not like the trees of the forest, but their budding and leafing time is very beautiful nevertheless.

It is surprising if we observe how many colourings and waftings of the spring God sends into the city-far into it. The grass will grow in the heart of it, and some kinds of trees grow up to great strength and beauty there. And the birds! God sends the birds at this time to sing all round the city; some of them are not afraid to go to the very heart of it. I see men shooting them all through the winter, and snaring them all through the summer, and yet fresh flocks and troops of them come every year, to tell us that the winter is past, and "the time of the singing of birds is come." And then the light that grows more beautiful every day, and brings out other beauties on the earth and in the sky. So that even here we may know, and rejoice in knowing, that God is "renewing the face of the earth."

Let us hear some of the voices of the spring.

I.

The first voice we hear speaks directly for God-for the divine existence and presence with us in his works