water of life as from ordinances below, we shall surround the wellspring of mercy, and drink to the full from the fountain-head of that river, the streams whereof make glad the city of our God."

I think that I shall never entirely forget the effect produced on my own mind, and on that of my friends, on this occasion, when the venerable but decrepid old man, raised him. self several times from his old arm, chair, by the assistance of that friendly staff which had been the companion and support of many a long year, to express the sincere and ardent feelings of his soul, and bless us with his affectionate benedictions, whilst his furrowed cheeks, which glowed with gratitude and joy, furnished an easy passage for the many tears which he shed on the occasion, and he seemed to enter into the feelings of the prophet, when he said, Jer. xx. 9, "His word was in mine heart as a burning fire shut up in my bones; and I was weary with forbearing, and I could not stay." And the kind and respectful con

duct which was observed when we took leave of this lowly cottage, and the prayers and blessings with which they followed us until the winding road had concealed us from their sight, produced in our minds a strong impression and hope that the Lord had heard our prayers, and blessed our humble labours.

Whether our aged friend still sojourns in this vale of tears, I know not; but Christian sympathy and love had united our souls in an endearing and indissoluble union, and faith may confidently anticipate the blissful hour when we shall meet again, not in the mud-walled cottage, nor at an earthly footstool, but within the temple and around the throne, in the kingdom of God, where, with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, and all the redeemed of the Lord, we shall sing, as Rev. i. 5, 6, "Unto him that loved us, and washed us from our sins in his own blood, and hath made us kings and priests unto God, and his Father; to him be glory and dominion, for ever and ever. Amen."

SOMEBODY.

"How widely diversified, and multiplied into many thousand distinct exercises, is the attention of God! His eye is on every hour of my existence, his Spirit is intimately present with every thought of my heart, his inspiration gives birth to every purpose within me, his hand impresses a direction on every footstep of my going, every breath I inhale is drawn by an energy which God deals out to me. This body, which upon the slightest derangement, would become the prey of death, or of woeful suffering, is now at ease, because he at this moment is warding off from me a thousand dangers, and upholding the thousand movements of its complex and delicate machinery: his presiding influence keeps by me through the

whole current of my restless and ever changing history.

"When I walk by the wayside, he is along with me,-when I enter into company, amid all my forgetfulness of him, he never forgets me,

in the silent watches of the night, when my eyelids have closed and my spirit has sunk into unconsciousness, the cbservant eye of him, who never slumbers, is upon me; I cannot fly from his presence, go where I will; he leads me and watches me, and cares for me; and the same Being who is now at work in the remotest domains of nature and of providence, is also at my hand to eke out to me every moment of my being, and to uphold me in the exercise of all my feelings and of all my faculties."

CHALMERS.

MAN, says an inspired writer, is born unto trouble as the sparks fly upward; and a very cursory view of the situation of a great part of our species must abundantly convince the unprejudiced observer of the truth of this observation. From the cradle to the grave, from the period of our birth to the moment of our death, what is life but a scene of continued trial, vexation, and disappointment? And did our hopes of happiness centre in this sublunary world, we might perhaps have some reason to complain of the variety of evils to which mankind is continually exposed; but every thing we meet with during our passage through this vale of tears informs us, with a voice too plain to be misunderstood, that here we have no continuing city-that this is not our rest. We enter life with brilliant expectations of happiness: we picture to ourselves a scene of continued enjoyments, which, when viewed at a distance, enchants the eye and captivates the fancy; but when the hand of time has brought nearer to us the glowing picture which we formed in our youth, how are its colours faded, and our expectations disappointed! We lean on the world and find it a broken reed, which can afford no satisfaction or support-on friends; but, alas! "friends are mortal, dangerous the desire"- —on ourselves? no; even here our resources fail; storms of passion disturb, clouds and darkness often overwhelm the soul. A few rays of happiness do, indeed, sometimes illuminate our horizon, but the passing clouds seldom fail to convince us that their duration is not to be depended upon.

But shall this view of life discourage or dispirit the Christian? Is there nothing which, even in the darkest night of adversity, may refresh and enliven his soul? Oh,

DEC. 1825.

yes: often can he look up, when smarting under the stroke of God's afflicting rod, and with humility exclaim, It is good for me that I have been afflicted, that I might learn thy statutes.

Many, doubtless, are the advantages resulting from Sanctified afflictions: they compel us to look more narrowly into our own hearts; they make us more earnest at the Throne of Grace, more frequent in our communion with God, more watchful over our own ways; they remind us (sickness especially) of our latter end, and teach us that in the midst of life we are in death; they wean us from the world, and raise us above the scene of our disappointments and trials, to a city that hath foundations whose builder and maker is God.

But it is not my intention to discourse at large upon the benefits of affliction, I would merely beg leave to offer a few plain and brief observations upon the manner in which afflictions make known and endear to us the word and ordinances of God. All Scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, and for instruction in righteousness; but it not unfrequently happens, that while a person basks in the sunshine of prosperity, is favoured with the smiles of the world, and attends to the flattering delusions of his own heart, the word of God is neglected, if not despised: its narratives appear flat and uninteresting, its doctrines obscure and contradictory, its evidences doubtful and inconclusive, its threatenings are contemned, its promises unheeded; and though, perhaps, custom or education may restrain a man from renouncing a belief in the Sacred Volume, yet he cares little for its contents, and feels no interest in its perusal. But when

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sickness or adversity make their appearance; when the false friends that flattered and caressed have disappeared; when the soul, deprived of all extrinsic sources of consolation, is compelled to retire within itself, then in what a different light do the Scriptures frequently appear! how dreadful its denunciations against the sinner, how alluring its promises to the penitent, how cheering its consolations to the afflicted, how delightful the prospects it affords of immortality! Many a poor sinner who, during the hours of health and prosperity, has been fast hastening to eternal ruin, has been led, in a season of sickness or adversity, to review his past life, mourn over his offences, and feel his lost condition, has been led to look to Jesus as his Saviour, has felt the efficacy of the blood that cleanseth from all sin, and has had reason to confess that it has been good for him to be afflicted.

But affliction is not only of service to awaken the impenitent sinner, but is also frequently the means of endearing the word and ordinances of God to the sincere Christian. It not unfrequently happens that, though a person may, by the grace of God, see sufficient beauty and excellence in the Scriptures to make them the rule of his conduct, the man of his counsel, and the joy of his heart, yet he is indebted to moments of suffering and sorrow for bringing many a passage of Scripture to his mind, with a force and sweetness before unknown. With what feelings of sympathy do we then meditate upon the records of God's afflicted saints in former times! what a propriety and expression then appears in many of the compositions of the holy Psalmist, when we are ourselves in similar situations; and, above all, when we contemplate the life and death of our blessed Lord, and view him sabject to poverty, reproach, and suffering, as without a place where to lay his head, as enduring

hunger and thirst with patience and submission! when we follow him to the scene of his agony, and contemplate his bloody sweat, his importunate prayer, yet humble submission to his Father, and at last behold him expiring on the cross at Calvary, and dying that we might live, we seem to hear him exclaim, Is it nothing to you? all ye that pass by, come see if there ever was sorrow like unto my sorrow. In the hour of prosperity we sometimes imagine that we feel our thoughts filled with wonder, love, and praise, when we meditate upon the stupendous work of redemption; but when we are ourselves brought low, when we feel how painful it is to suffer affliction, it is then that we enter more fully into the sufferings of our Redeemer, and are enabled to form some faint idea of his astonishing and inconceivable love towards us.

Affliction also infuses a peculiar sweetness into the promises of God, when surrounded by temporal difficulties and disappointments. How cheering is the promise, I will never leave thee nor forsake thee! When in anticipation of further afflictions, how consoling the assurance that God will not suffer us to be tempted above what we are able to bear, but will, with the temptation, make also a way to escape! Do we mourn the loss of earthly friends? When my father and mother forsake me, then the Lord taketh me up: in sickness, when we pass through the valley of the shadow of death, we need fear no evil; for God is with us, his rod and his staff shall comfort us. In fact, there are many promises of Scripture, the value of which can scarcely be duly appreciated, except in times of darkness and affliction. Then the mind eagerly catches at something to cheer and support; then every promise of support and deliverance is worth thousands of gold and silver. May not then the Christian with propriety exclaim, It is good for me that I

have been afflicted, that I might learn thy statutes?

And, in the last place, the ordi nances of God are rendered doubly dear to us, when the enjoyment of them has been for a time suspended. We seldom know the value of a blessing till we are deprived of it; and when God has, by the dispensations of his providence, shut out the Christian for a time from the ordinances of religion and the means of grace, it is then that his soul panteth after them as the hart after the water brooks; and should God in his infinite mercy think fit again to permit him to enjoy them, he participates in them with renewed ardour and delight, and determines to endeavour after a closer communion with his Saviour, and a more earnest devotion of himself to his service. Shall we then murmur or repine at being compelled to pass through the waters of affliction? Shall we dare to wish to pass through life in the constant smiles of prosperity? In such a case we might justly suspect that all was not right within. The man who knows any thing of the "plague of his own heart," must be aware of its tendency to pride, self-confidence, and neglect of God. Scarcely can the sun of prosperity shine for a few moments upon us, and its beams a little enliven our hearts, before we are tempted to be lifted up in our own conceits, and to imagine that our mountain stands strong and shall never be moved; till on a sudden a rude blast of adversity comes and nips our prospects of happiness where we thought them most secure, forcibly displays to us the vanity and instability of all terrestial enjoyments, and teaches us to place our affections on things above.

Were it not for the salutary effects of the Divine chastisements, we should be in danger of growing inordinately attached to earth, and should scarcely ever elevate our thoughts and desires to heaven. Those things which the mercy and bene

ficence of God has granted for our comfort and refreshment during our pilgrimage through this world, would be too apt to become our idols; those affections which ought to rise with all their strength towards our adorable Redeemer, would be apt to grovel with earthly objects, and spend their strength for nought; but it not unfrequently happens that when our affections for the things of this life, children, relations, or friends, is becoming inordinate, and likely to injure the best interests of ourselves and them, by a wise, but to us mysterious, Providence, we are deprived of them; such a state, how painful soever it may be to our present feelings, ought rather to be considered as a merciful sign of God's fatherly care of us than a mark of his displeasure. No affliction, indeed, is for the present joyous, but frequently very grievous: but we have the authority of an inspired Apostle for asserting that they produce the peaceable fruits of righteousness to them that are exercised thereby. Let not, then, the weak and afflicted Christian despair, however deep, however painful his present sufferings may be ; let him be assured that the rod is in a Father's hand, and that not one stroke more than is necessary shall be inflicted. Hope then in God, for thou shalt yet praise him, who is the light of thy countenance, and thy God. We are as yet enveloped in the mists of ignorance and folly, and frequently think those things most suitable which would, reality, prove most injurious. Like children deprived of some improper plaything by the hand of a parent, we storm and fret at what we really consider our Heavenly Father's severity; but a time will shortly arrive when all that is at present dark and mysterious shall be made plain, we shall then see the wisdom and goodness of God in afflicting, and our own folly in murmuring and repining under his corrections.

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There is no solid happiness to be