people.” How strong is the expression—“the slain.” The prophet knew full well the misery of transgressing God’s law. Tremendous, indeed, is the reflection, that the path of sin inevitably leads to the regions of darkness—those regions where there is “weeping and gnashing of teeth,” where “their worm dieth not, and the fire is not quenched.” Whence is it, then, that, without any apparent concern, we behold myriads of immortal creatures fast hastening to these regions of destruction? Whence is it that there is so much apathy, lukewarmness, and indifference to a brother’s eternal welfare. Is it not too often, perhaps, that there is a latent scepticism which induces us to disbelieve the solemn declaration of the Omnipotent—even when he swears by himself—that every jot and tittle of his threatenings shall be accomplished? Surely were it not for some such spirit, we should never rest satisfied with the feeble efforts we may have made to lead the sinner back to his offended God; we should esteem no sacrifice too great, whether of time, or influence, or money, or talent, which could in any way promote a brother’s spiritual welfare. But we are too apt to forget, if not to disbelieve, the solemn declarations of the bible; and forgetfulness to all practical results is as pernicious as downright infidelity. The man who forgets God is as little influenced by his law as the fool, who in his heart says there is no God at all. Now, this forgetfulness paralyzes our energies, damps our zeal, checks our benevolence. We do not consider that sinners are heaping up wrath against the day of wrath; and, though they may now enjoy an unhallowed prosperity, and now in an unbridled licentiousness derive happiness from the indulgence of fleshly lusts, yet that these war against the soul, against its present peace, and its ultimate felicity, and that ruin and destruction inevitably await them. Were our spirit that of the psalmist, or that of the prophet referred to, our feelings would be more lively, our endeavours to promote the good of mankind be more energetic. Looking not every one to his own, but on his brothers’ good, we should be anxious to direct their feet into the way of peace.

How beautifully was this spirit manifested by St. Paul, when he exhorted the converts of Philippi to be followers of himself—“For many walk,” says he, “of whom I have told you often, and now tell you even weeping, that they are the enemies of the cross of Christ; whose end is destruction, whose God is their belly, and whose glory is in their shame; who mind earthly things.” The apostle, indeed, appears to have been influenced by the same anxiety as the psalmist and the prophet; for the glory of the Redeemer, as well as the eternal welfare of their souls, was dear to his heart, and he could not refrain from weeping when he viewed the dishonour cast upon his adorable Lord by these enemies of his cross; when he beheld them following divers lusts and pleasures, even boasting of their recklessness of God’s judgments; and when he carried his thoughts forward to that day when the terrors of the Lord would fall on all the children of disobedience, or those who neglected the great salvation. This spirit is, in fact, no bad test whereby we may try the state of our hearts and affections. If we are really desirous for the advancement of God’s glory, and deeply interested in the welfare of our fellow-creatures, our feelings will be very similar to those of the holy men of God referred to. We shall not view, without the very deepest concern, that inattention which is everywhere paid to the solemn requirements of the Almighty; we shall at least make the attempt to stop the sinner in his career of guilt and folly, that his soul may be saved from destruction in the day of the Lord.

Melancholy is the reflection, indeed, that neither God’s invitations on the one hand, nor his threatenings on the other, appear to affect their hearts; they are neither constrained by love nor fear. “Wide is the gate, and broad is the way that leadeth to destruction, and many there be that go in thereat.”

There was one that wept over the rebellion of man, and one infinitely greater than David, or Jeremiah, or St. Paul—and that one was the ever-adorable Saviour; who, beholding the guilty race of man altogether gone out of the way, descended from the mansions of glory, became a partaker of human impurity, and opened through his blood a new and living way, whereby the guilty sinner might return in peace to his God. How touching the description of the evangelist—“And when he came near, he beheld the city and wept over it, saying, If thou hadst known, even thou, at least in this thy day, the things which belong unto thy peace, but now they are hid from thine eyes.” Jesus wept at the grave of Lazarus, for Lazarus was his friend; he sympathised deeply with Martha and Mary, for he loved them as he did their brother; but far more bitter were the tears he shed, when he reflected on the waywardness of that people whom he would have gathered to himself; the guilt of that city which had killed the prophets; when he thought of those days of divine vengeance, when its enemies should cast a trench about it, and compass it round, and keep it in on every side, and should lay it even with the ground, and its children within it. And did not this feeling operate when, even amidst the agonies of a crucifixion, his mind rested on the sufferings of others, and not on his own? “Daughters of Jerusalem! weep not for me, but weep for yourselves and for your children.” And shall we not, in this as in every other respect, seek to imitate our adorable Lord? Shall we not feel deeply interested in the spiritual welfare of our fellow-men? If we do not, it is, alas! a fearful, a decisive proof, that the flame of holy love, of devoted zeal, has not been kindled in our bosom; that we do not feel the importance of that salvation which is offered us so freely in the gospel; that we are not duly impressed with a dread of that woe unspeakable, that shall be the portion of those whose souls shall be for ever lost.

Sacred Philosophy.

CONTRIBUTIONS TO THE NATURAL THEOLOGY OF THE VEGETABLE KINGDOM.

By Robert Dickson, M.D., F.L.S.

No. XI. Pt. 1.

While the actions which lead to the various effects on the external appearance of a tree, described in the former paper, are going on, many important changes occur in the internal parts, producing alterations not less admirable, whether in respect of the tree itself, or of the ends to which it may be rendered subservient. The base of an exogenous tree is not merely widened by the superposition of annual layers of wood over the first shoot, by which it gains greater mechanical power to support the extending head of wide-spreading branches, but the central portion is, in most cases, progressively rendered more and more solid by the deposition in it of various secretions prepared by the leaves, and transmitted from them through the medullary rays into this part as their ultimate resting-place.

The fibres descending from the developing buds on the stem, and passing between the plates of cellular tissue, which constitute the medullary rays, and the cells of which have a horizontal direction, are but the basis of the vegetable fabric. The stem of an exogenous plant has been compared to a piece of linen, of which the weft is composed of cellular tissue, and the warp of fibrous and vascular tissue—crossing each other. Now, after the