ngled
with the sand, and was lost in the waters of the mighty ocean. The
murmuring of the waves, as the tide ebbed or flowed, on the sand; their
dashing against some more distant rocks, which were covered fantastically
with sea-weed and shells; sea-birds floating in the air aloft, or
occasionally screaming from their holes in the cliffs; the hum of human
voices in the ships and boats, borne along the water: all these sounds
served to promote, rather than interrupt, meditation. They were
soothingly blended together, and entered the ear in a kind of natural
harmony.

In the quiet enjoyment of a scene like this, the lover of nature's
beauties will easily find scope for spiritual illustration.

Here I sat and mused over the interesting character and circumstances of
little Jane. Here I prayed that God would effectually teach me those
truths which I ought to teach her.

When I thought of her youth, I blushed to think how superior she was to
what I well remember myself to have been at the same age; nay, how far my
superior at that very time. I earnestly desired to catch something of
the spirit which appeared so lovely in her; for, simple, teachable, meek,
humble yet earnest in her demeanour, she bore living marks of heavenly
teaching.

"The Lord," thought I, "has called this little child, and set her in the
midst of us, as a parable, a pattern, an emblem. And he saith, 'Verily,
except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye shall not enter
into the kingdom of heaven.' Oh that I may be humble as this little
child!"

I was thus led into a deep self-examination, and was severely exercised
with fear and apprehension, whether I was myself a real partaker of those
divine influences which I could so evidently discover in her. Sin
appeared to me just then to be more than ever "exceeding sinful." Inward
and inbred corruptions made me tremble. The danger of self-deception in
so great a matter alarmed me. I was a teacher of others; but was I
indeed spiritually taught myself?

A spirit of anxious inquiry ran through every thought: I looked at the
manifold works of creation around me; I perceived the greatest marks of
regularity and order; but _within_ I felt confusion and disorder.

"The waves of the sea," thought I, "ebb and flow in exact obedience to
the law of their Creator. Thus far they come, and no further--they
retire again to their accustomed bounds; and so maintain a regulated
succession of effects