corroborates the statements made in the pamphlet already alluded to,* and says:-"There may be now less carrying of clay than Mr. Smith describes in his interesting paper, the clay being in many cases wheeled to the maker of the bricks; but the hardships endured by the children, the long hours of labour, the lax moral discipline, the ignorance and low moral tone that he alleges prevails in brickyards are quite true, in too many cases, we believe. We have known lads in earthenware manufactories compelled to carry lumps of clay that have forced the head into the neck, and almost cracked the backbone of the lad or girl, when by thoughtless men they have been made to carry pieces beyond their strength; and many lads have been stunted in their growth through the folly, and in some cases we speak plainly—the cruelty of working potters."

It is very obvious that children living under such demoralizing influences are not easily impressed for good. Brought up in ignorance, they are the ready prey of Vice, and soon begin to regard religion with suspicion and dislike. Their minds uncultured, their tastes degraded, they are sorry material for the Christian to work upon. As for the Sabbath-school-very little can be expected from it. Overworked during the week, the children are more disposed for rest on the Sabbath than for instruction; surrounded by the vicious, and morally dwarfed by their example during six days, they are more inclined to swear and curse, and to indulge in rude and harmful amusements on the Lord'sday than to listen to the voice of the Christian teacher. We hope that vigorous agitation will follow the dissemination of Mr. Smith's pamphlet for Parliamentary interference, and that our Christian brethren who are acquainted with the facts will assist in this laudable movement to relieve the children of their burdens.

[It is with no small pleasure that we have learnt since this paper was in type that the Government have promised to take up the matter. It should be done at once.]

Covenants with God.

T was the custom of our Puritanic forefathers to make a formal

conversion,

solemn act they reverently renewed either at set seasons, or upon the occasion of remarkable mercies. It has been said that such a formal proceeding is apt to engender bondage and savours of legality; if so, it is a singular circumstance that it should have been so common among the most evangelical divines that ever lived. We rather incline to the belief that the practice ministered to edification, and was one cause of the vigorous personal piety of the Puritanic period. At any rate, the spirit of complete surrender to God is absolutely necessary to true religion, and the more thoroughly our belonging unto God is practically recognised, the more energetic will our religion become. "Ye are not your own, for ye are bought with a price," is a truth which cannot be too

*It can be had of Simpkin, Marshall & Co.

deeply impressed on the minds of believers. As a specimen of the mode in which holy men of the seventeenth century devoted themselves unto God, the reader will be interested in the following "occasional covenant" of Mr. Oliver Heywood, drawn up after a period of secresy and selfexamination, and signed before participating in the Lord's Supper. He says of it: "Having experienced some degree of enlargement, I am pressed in spirit to lift up my hand to the Most High, and bind myself to the Lord in a further vow of self-dedication to him."

MR. HEYWOOD'S COVENANT.

"INFINITE Jehovah! It is no small encouragement to this poor, sinful creature, that I live under a covenant of grace, and not of works, wherein, though I sin, as thou knowest, to the grief of my heart, repentance is not unavailable, nor the sentence irreversible; but an appeal is admitted from the bench of justice to the throne of grace, from the law to the gospel, from Moses to Christ. God himself, even thou, my Father, having provided a plank after shipwreck, and a city of refuge to secure my poor, trembling soul: according to this blessed covenant, I return to thee this day after my backslidings. It grieves me that I have grieved thy Spirit by deadness, distraction, pride, unbelief, worldliness, hypocrisy, and formality. I here prostrate myselt at thy footstool, acknowledging thy justice, if thou condemn me, adoring thy free grace, if thou receive me; and who knows but God will accept? O that ever it should enter thy heart to send thy Son to redeem sinners! O that overflowing love should provide a surety to pay the debt of bankrupts! I accept it, Lord, with a hearty welcome; I acquiesce in this thy way, and will seek for no other to secure my precious soul. My soul embraceth a dear Saviour in the arms of my faith. Welcome Christ, with his yoke! Welcome the cross of Christ! O that my soul may come to Christ aright! I am willing to part with the world, sensual gratifications, and all for Christ, and to give myself up to Christ. I have no other Saviour, no other Sovereign; the Lord my Righteousness is the Lord my Judge; the Lord my King will save me. Dear Lord Jesus! thou art my hope, my help, my light, my life; thy name is as ointment poured forth, therefore my soul loveth thee, my heart goeth after thee. I have none in heaven or earth besides thee; thou art the Sun of righteousness; thy grace alone heals, thy beams enlighten me, thy rays refresh me. If thou withdrawest, my spirit faints. Whom should I admire but thee? To whom should I give up myself but unto thee? Here I am, Lord, devoted to thy fear, thy servant, the son of thine handmaid: thou hast loosed my bonds. My person and all I have are thine; yea, I look upon it as my greatest privilege to be the Lord's devoted servant. Lord, if thou hast given thy worthless worm any gifts, I will not use them to get myself credit, but the glory. No matter what men think or speak of me, so that they have exalted thoughts of God. Let me disappear, that the eyes of men may be fixed on the Lord. My house and goods, and all I have, are at thy service. I proclaim liberty to thee to do with all I have what seemeth good to thee. If I may glorify thee better without than with these things, I am as willing to be deprived of them as ever I was to receive them. My wife, children, and all my comforts, are more thine than mine. I am but a steward: these are borrowed; and when my

Master calls, I will freely let all go for thy sake and pleasure. I despise all things in comparison of, or competition with, my dear Lord Jesus. What is this world to the pearl of great price, the Mediator of the new covenant? My soul even scorns and hates these poor unconsiderable things, that I may win Christ and be found in him. 'I have sworn, and I will perform it, that I will keep thy righteous judgments.' I have renewed my covenant, taken the bounty money, given my hand, and, through grace, my soul desires to stand to it, to be the Lord's and only his. I am more the Lord's than my own. O that I could be more for God than for myself! I must, and through grace, will take more pains in my study, be more at the throne of grace, and preach with more compassion for poor souls. Lord, say Amen, and give success to "Thy worthless servant,

• Began, Feb. 1,21673." Ended, Feb. 3,S

It is Dark.

"OLIVER HEYWOOD.

HERE come seasons of darkness in all our lives-times when there are

T neither sun, for moon, nor stars in the sky, and we stand still in fear, or grope, trembling. A few years ago there fell upon my life one of these seasons, in which I could see neither to the right hand nor the left. A terror of darkness was upon me. One night I lay awake, thinking, thinking until my brain grew wild with uncertainty. I could not see even a step in advance, and feared to move onwards lest with the next footfall I should plunge into hopeless ruin. Very strongly was I tempted to turn aside from the way in which I was goinga way reason and conscience approved as right; but something held me back. Again and again I took up and considered the difficulties of my situation, leoking to the right hand and the left for ways of extrication; now inclining to go in this direction, and now in that; yet always held away from resolve by inner convictions of right and duty that grew clear at the moment when I was ready to give up my hold on integrity.

So the hours went heavy-footed until past midnight. My little daughter was sleeping in the crib beside my bed. But now she began to move uneasily, and presently her timid voice broke faintly the still air:

"Papa! papa!" she called. "What is it, darling?" I asked. "Oh, paa! It is dark! Take Nellie's hand." I reached out my hand and took her tiny one 1. my own, clasping it firmly. A sigh of relief came up from her little heart. All her loneliness and fear were gone, and in a few moments she was sound asleep again. "Oh my Father in Heaven!" I cried, in a sudden, almost wild outburst of feeling. "It is dark, very dark. Take my hand!" A great peace fell upon me. The terror of darkness was gone. "Keep hold of my hand, oh, my Father!" I prayed fervently; "and though I walk through the valley and the shadow of death, I will fear no evil. Let not my feet wander to the right or to the left." Sleep fell softly on my eyelids, and morning broke with scarce a seeming interval of time. I felt calm and strong. The day was to be one of severe trial. Dark uncertainty rested over it. But I was resolved to walk steadily through its trials and its pains, holding tightly the hand of my Father. Oh! is not the Lord better to us, if we will trust Him, than all our fears? There came fierce assaults upon my integrity. I was lured by golden promises. I was threatened with disaster and disgrace: but my hand lay in the firm clasp of one who "sticketh closer than a brother," and who is strong to save. In my rectitude I found safety. Had I swerved, I should have gone down to hopeless ruin. Even my tempters, who had hoped to gain through my defections from honour, bore witness to my integrity. And now, having escaped the perils of this difficult and dangerous pass, peace, prosperity, and honour opened on my view; but the highest and dearest of all my possessions is mine integrity, which, but for the hand of my Father grasped in darkness, I should have lost.-Home Magazine.

Expositions of the Psalms.

BY C. H. SPURGEON.

PSALM LXI.

TITLE. To the Chief Musician upon Neginah, a Psalm of David.-The original indicates that both the hymn and the musical instrument were David's. He wrote the verses, and himself sang them to the stringed instrument whose sound he loved so well. We have left the Psalms entitled Michtam, but we shall still find much precious meaning though the golden name be wanting. We have met with the title of this Psalm before, in Psalms IV., VI., LIV., and LV., but with this difference, that in the present case the word is in the singular number: the Psalm itself is very personal, and well adapted for the private devotion of a single individual.

SUBJECT AND DIVISION.-This Psalm is a pearl. It is little, but precious. To many a mourner it has furnished utterance when the mind could not have devised speech for itself. It was evidently composed by David after he had come to the throne,-see verse 6. The second verse leads us to believe that it was written during the psalmist's enforced exile from the tabernacle, which was the visible abode of God if so, the period of Absalom's rebellion has been most suitably suggested as the date of its authorship, and Delitzsch is correct in entitling it, “ Prayer and thanksgiving of an expelled King on his way back to his throne."

We might divide the verses according to the sense, but it is preferable to follow the author's own arrangement, and make a break at each SELAI.

EXPOSITION.

EAR my cry, O God; attend unto my prayer.

HE

2 From the end of the earth will I cry unto thee, when my heart is overwhelmed: lead me to the rock that is higher than I.

3. For thou hast been a shelter for me, and a strong tower from the enemy.

4 I will abide in thy tabernacle for ever: I will trust in the covert of thy wings.

Selah.

1. "Hear my cry, O God." IIe was in terrible earnest; he shouted, he lifted up his voice on high. He is not however content with the expression of his need to give his sorrows vent is not enough for him, he wants actual audience of heaven, and manifest succour as the result. Pharisees may rest in their prayers; true believers are cager for an answer to them ritualists may be satisfied when they have "said or sung" their litanies and collects, but living children of God will never rest till their supplications have entered the ears of the Lord God of Sabaoth. "Attend unto my prayer." Give it thy consideration, and such an answer as thy wisdom sees fit, When it comes to crying with us, we need not doubt but that it will come to attending with God. Our heavenly Father is not hardened against the cries of his own children. What a consoling thought it is that the Lord at all times hears his people's cries, and is never forgetful of their prayers; whatever else fails to move him, praying breath is never spent in vain!

2. "From the end of the earth will I cry unto thee." He was banished from the spot which was the centre of his delight, and at the same time his mind was in a depressed and melancholy condition; both actually and figuratively he was an outcast, yet he does not therefore restrain prayer, but rather finds therein a reason for the louder and more importunate cries. To be absent from the place of divine worship was a sore sorrow to saints in the olden times; they

looked upon the tabernacle as the centre of the world, and they counted themselves to be at the fag-end of the universe when they could no longer resort to the sacred shrine; their heart was heavy as in a strange land when they were banished from its solemnities. Yet even they knew right well that no place is unsuitable for prayer. There may be an end of the earth, but there must not be an end to devotion. On creation's verge we may call upon God, for even there he is within call. No spot is too dreary, no condition too deplorable; whether it be the world's end or life's end, prayer is equally available. To pray in some circumstances needs resolve, and the psalmist here expresses it, "I will cry." It was a wise resolution, for had he ceased to pray he would' have become the victim of despair; there is an end to a man when he makes an end to prayer. Observe that David never dreamed of seeking any other God; he did not imagine the dominion of Jehovah to be local: he was at the end of the promised land, but he knew himself to be still in the territory of the Great King; to him only does he address his petitions. When my heart is overwhelmed:"-when the huge waves of trouble wash over me, and I am completely submerged, not only as to my head, but also my heart. It is hard to pray when the very heart is drowning, yet gracious men plead best at such times. Tribulation brings us to God, and brings God to us. Faith's greatest triumphs are achieved in her heaviest trials. It is all over with me, affliction is all over me; it encompasses me as a cloud, it swallows me up like a sea, it shuts me in with thick darkness, yet God is near, near enough to hear my voice, and I will call him. Is not this brave talk? Mark how our psalmist tells the Lord, as if he knew he were hearing him, that he intended to call upon him: our prayer by reason of our distress may be like to a call upon a far-off friend, but our inmost faith has its quiet heart-whispers to the Lord as to one who is assuredly our very present help.

66

"Lead me to the rock that is higher than I." I see thee to be my refuge, sure and strong; but alas! I am confused, and cannot find thee; I am weak, and cannot climb thee. Thou art so steadfast, guide me; thou art so high, uplift me. There is a mint of meaning in this brief prayer. Along the iron-bound coast of our northern shores, lives are lost because the rocks are inaccessible to the shipwrecked mariner. A clergyman of one of the coast villages has with immense labour cut steps up from the beach to a large chamber, which he has excavated in the chalk cliff: here many mariners have been saved; they have climbed the rock, which had else been too high for them, and they have escaped. We have heard of late, however, that the steps have been worn away by the storms, and that poor sailors have perished miserably within sight of the refuge which they could not reach, for it was too high for them: it is therefore proposed to drive in iron stanchions, and to hang up chain ladders that shipwrecked mariners may reach the chambers in the rock. The illustration is self-interpreting. Our experience leads us to understand this verse right well, for the time was with us when we were in such amazement of soul by reason of sin, that although we knew the Lord Jesus to be a sure salvation for sinners, yet we could not come at him, by reason of our many doubts and forebodings. A Saviour would have been of no use to us if the Holy Spirit had not gently led us to him, and enabled us to rest upon him. To this day we often feel that we not only want a rock, but to be led to it. With this in view we treat very leniently the halfunbelieving prayers of awakened souls; for in their bewildered state we cannot expect from them all at once a fully believing cry. A seeking soul should at once believe in Jesus, but it is legitimate for a man to ask to be led to Jesus; the Holy Spirit is able to effect such a leading, and he can do it even though the heart be on the borders of despair.

How infinitely higher than we are is the salvation of God. We are low and grovelling, but it towers like some tall cliff far above us. This is its glory, and is our delight when we have once climbed into the rock, and clained an interest in it; but while we are as yet trembling seekers, the glory and sublimity of salvation appal us, and we feel that we are too unworthy ever to be partakers