SEVENTH WEEK. 



GARDEN is an awful responsibility. 

 You never know what you may be 

 aiding to grow in it. I heard a ser 

 mon, not long ago, in which the preacher said 

 that the Christian, at the moment of his becom 

 ing one, was as perfect a Christian as he would 

 be if he grew to be an archangel ; that is, that 

 he would not change thereafter at all, but only 

 develop. I do not know whether this is good 

 theology, or not ; and I hesitate to support it by 

 an illustration from my garden, especially as I 

 do not want to run the risk of propagating error, 

 and I do not care to give away these theological 

 comparisons to clergymen who make me so little 



