insanity and suicide, unless God and a sense of his protection are first discarded.

For great, solid, numerous, on the other hand, are the comforts of Christianity. Christianity does most clearly vindicate the ways of heaven. We collect from that system, that this life is a state of probation; that the troubles of it are trials of faith and virtue; that no believer shall be tempted above what he is able to bear; that he shall have support from heaven; and that his afflictions, which endure comparatively but for a moment, shall be rewarded with an eternal and exceeding weight of glory.

This persuasion alone is sufficient to afford comfort to a sincere believer under the severest distress; but he has also another source of joy. Under the pressure of adversity the sincere believer looks up to God as to a friend and father, with hope and con fidence, and sees, amidst the gloominess which sur rounds him, a bright effulgence bursting from the lowering horizon; a serene sky, which forebodes that the clouds immediately surrounding him will soon be dispelled. Though he travels with weary step in the vale of sorrow and darkness, and his feet be ready to slip in the dangerous and rugged road; yet shall thy staff, O God, be his support and guide. Though he stumble, yet shall he not fall; thy right hand shall be stretched out to raise him up, and through hope in thy aid he shall persevere with alacrity, and finally conquer, and be crowned with immortality.

I will take a transient view of a few among the miseries of life, for to enumerate them all is impossible, and endeavour to point out in what manner a trust in God affords consolation under them; and I will then proceed to evince, that they who have no confidence in God, however they may plume them

VOL. VI.

selves on their self-sufficiency, their natural parts, and their acquired learning, are of all men most miserable.

To be reduced from the glittering envied heights of rank and riches, to the humble vale of poverty and obscurity, is a change which the worldly-minded deplore as the extremity of woe, the last act in the tragedy of life. They have been accustomed to splendour; and they must now be contented with necessaries, however mean and homely. They have been used to ornament in dress, and superfluities at the table; and they must now rejoice, if they can be protected from inclement weather by decent clothing, and from hunger by wholesome diet. They have been attended by a useless tribe of domestics, and they must now either accommodate themselves, or be satisfied with such attendants as contribute only to use, and not to ostentation. They bewail their worldly adversity in all the bitterness of unfeigned sorrow; and indeed it must be confessed, that if in this world only they have hope, they are fallen into misfortunes which may justly render them deeply dejected. They have lost their all: they have lost, in the loss of riches, the object of their ardent love; and they go about moaning, in the agony of one who is bereaved of his only comfort. But if they have happily furnished their hearts with religious principles, their grief shall soon be turned into joy. They shall look up from the darkling valley, and behold on the hills the feet of him that bringeth salvation. They shall see with purged eyes the vanity of all which this world can bestow, and in the midst of poverty find riches, which cannot make to themselves wings; find a treasure, where neither moth doth corrupt, nor thieves break in and steal. And indeed, if their worldly adversity has caused

them to think at last of him who gave and who taketh away, it may justly be esteemed the most fortunate event of their lives. It is good for them that they have been afflicted. If poverty has taught them humility, it has given them an ornament, in the sight of God, more beautiful and precious than all the splendid decorations which their former opulence lavishly supplied. If their poverty has taught them not to lean on the world, it has found for them a bulwark and column of support which shall never fall; even the ROCK OF AGES, JESUS CHRIST.

Happy change! though mortals, fascinated with the scenes before them, can scarcely acknowledge it; yet if salvation is more desirable than perdition, wise and godly adversity is better than sinful and thoughtless opulence; and that uninterrupted prosperity has a natural tendency to blind the understanding, and render the heart insensible to the feelings of piety; proud, presumptuous, and hard; we need but look into the gay, the busy, and the great world to observe.

No man, however, whatever may be the benefits of adversity, will voluntarily relinquish the temporal advantages of prosperity; but every man may be deprived of them by the vicissitudes of this mortal life; and when this happens, considerations of this kind will surely teach him not to sink under his misfortune, but to turn it evidently into a blessing, and a prize. O! taste, ye sons and daughters of adversity, what sweet waters of comfort issue from heaven! look up and see a sunbeam from the throne of God, which is ready to dart a glorious lustre around your gloomy path, and to convert the wil derness in which ye wander, into a paradise of fruits and flowers, blooming, like evergreens, in the midst

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of winter! Hope ye in God; for ye shall yet praise him for the light of his countenance.

In all worldly losses and disappointments, what has been said in the change from affluence to want, will be equally applicable. The loss of fame or character, if it be unjustly lost, will little affect him who resolves to recommend himself to the approbation of the Most High, instead of courting the breath of popular applause. The loss of health, though painful, and most devoutly to be deprecated indeed, as one of the greatest of real misfortunes, will be wonderfully alleviated by a sincere faith and hope that, at the close of this short life, our corruptible shall put on incorruption, and our mortal, immortality; and that once more, like the phoenix from its ashes, we shall flourish in a beautiful rejuvenesence. Thou, O God! art health and strength and glory to all who flee to thee for succour; and the pious sufferer, on the bed of disease and death, in his last faltering accents, whispers praise.

But there is one loss, which I confess is almost too, grievous to be born with patience; I mean the loss of those we love, the loss of children, dear relatives, or any others closely allied either by friendship or consanguinity. It is a separation which rends the heart-strings; the fountain of tears will then burst in torrents, and the mourner will long go heavily on his way; his soul will refuse to be comforted; and sacred be his sorrows: let so much indulgence be allowed to this amiable infirmity, that no attempts be made to soothe the sufferer by remonstrance, till his passion has subsided, and time's lenient influence assuaged the venom of the wound. Then, at last, religion, that lovely matron, that kind nursing mother, will step in with friendly aspect, raise the

mourner from the ground, and bid him look up to God, who can call the forms which moulder in the earth from the dark chambers of death, from a state of corruption, to a state of glory; who, after a short separation, can cause those who were united in love during life, to meet in love again after death, never more to be torn asunder, and wrenched from the rivets of affection.

Sweet hope! unknown to the ungodly, to the disputer of this world, the vain, the conceited caviller, into whose dark and callous bosom the beams of grace never penetrated: Sweet hope! and more to be desired than all the treasure the richest plunderer ever wrung from the oppressed Indian on the banks of the Ganges-To meet those who were dear to us as our own souls, in a purified and exalted state; lovelier and more estimable, more worthy our love, than they ever appeared on earth! Delightful expectation! and blessed is he who cherishes it, and blessed be the God, who has in his revelation given wretched human nature reason to embrace it with confidence.

"Child of my heart," may the poor parent exclaim, while he bends his head over the untimely grave, and drops a parting tear on the insensible coffin" Child of my heart, farewell; for thee I mourn; nature must indeed feel the parting pang! thou art torn from me, and the anguish of separation is as if one should tear by violence this limb from this body! my heart bleeds at every pore! But I submit to necessity with cheerfulness; because my religion teaches me to turn my view from earth to yonder regions of glory, where I see thee, with the eye of faith, borne up by angels in a transfigured form, partaking the bliss of saints, and clothed in the vesture of immortality. Thou canst not come