ndled; the
imagination paints the canvas; the tongue stands ready to utter the
influx of love and wisdom; and the hand to illustrate it.

As these internal states of the soul change, by conjunction with the
Lord and communion with Heaven, on the one hand; or by opposition to
God and alliance with Hell, on the other, we see all things of the
outward world in a different light.

The changes of our internal man are, to appearance, much more
directly of the Lord's Divine Providence, than the events of the
outward life. Nevertheless, the two are so related by the
constitution of the mind, that each individual determines, in
rationality and freedom, which of the emotions and thoughts of the
_inner life_, he will bring forth into _ultimate acts_; and it is
here that the man may ally himself with the good and the true on one
hand, or with the evil and the false on the other; and in this
manner determine his destiny for heaven or hell.

The practical bearings of our subjects hinge chiefly on this; we are
to confide in the Lord; lean upon his great arm; and look to Him,
with the assurance that although He leads us by a way that we know
not, nevertheless He is leading us aright; and if we trust to Him,
and do His will, He will finally bring us to heaven.

Casting our eyes from one extreme of the Lord's vast dominions to
the other, we find the same Divine Providence everywhere operating
and operative. The angels of heaven, from the highest to the lowest,
are continually led by the Lord in paths that they have not known;
darkness is made light before them, and crooked things straight.
Nevertheless they are not led into infinite good nor infinite
delight. For this would be impossible. But constantly they are led
into a higher degree of good than they would naturally choose; and
they are defended from evil into which they would naturally subside.
So also it is with us.

Hence we may rest assured, that however meagre may be the good we
experience, it is vaster by far than we should inherit, if we had
been permitted to carry out our own plans and to have our own way in
those numerous particulars in which we have been frustrated in our
plans and disappointed in our hopes.

THE IVY IN THE DUNGEON.

THE ivy in a dungeon grew,
Unfed by rain, uncheered by dew;
Its pallid leaflets only drank
Cave-moistures foul, and odours dank.

But through the dungeon-grating high
There fell a sunbeam from the sky;
It sle