only, will the suffering soul hear the voice of love whispering, "I will see you again, and your heart shall rejoice." "My grace is sufficient for thee." This will satisfy it until Jesus lifts the veil of mystery, and explains all the plans of God.

It is recorded in history that a beautiful maiden, named Blanche, the serf of an ancient nobleman, was wooed by her master's son. Not admiring his character, she scorned his suit. Upon this, his course of love turned to bitter hatred. Just then a precious string of pearls, confided to the maiden's care, was lost. Her pseudo-lover charged her with the theft, and, in accordance with the customs of that rude age, she was doomed to die. On the day of the execution, as the innocent girl knelt to offer her dying prayer, a flash of lightning struck a statue of Justice which adorned the marketplace to the dust. From a scattered bird's nest, built in a crevice of the image, dropped the lost pearls-thus declaring her innocence. In a moment the exultant crowd rushed to the scaffold, demanding her release. There she knelt beside the block, pale and beautiful, and with a smile of peace upon her lips. They spoke

she answered not. They touched her—she was dead! To preserve her memory, they raised a statue there; and to this day, when men gaze upon her image, they condemn her oppressor; they praise her for the purity of her character; they recognise the justice of Him whose lightnings testified to her inno

cence.

Here, then, we have an example of a mystic Providence. Painfully that maiden suffered for causes beyond her control; but her sorrows, by leading to a perpetual abhorrence of oppression, and admiration of virtuous innocence, have done good to thousands.

If, then, that sufferer's piety be rewarded in eternity with honour and praise, she will not only not complain, but will be everlastingly grateful for the privilege of being called to the bitter trial so blessed to herself and others.

Afflicted reader! will you apply this fact to yourself? Fail not to reflect, as you tread the burning pavement of your thrice-heated furnace, that "the trial of your faith, being much more precious than of gold that perisheth, though it be tried with fire, might be found (if properly maintained) unto praise,

and honour, and glory, at the appearing of Jesus Christ." Beloved child of sorrow! is not this enough? Therefore, let not your heart be troubled.

"O thou, who mournest on thy way,
With longings for the close of day,
He walks with thee, that angel kind,
And gently whispers, 'Be resign'd.'
Bear up, bear on, the end shall tell

The dear Lord ordereth all things well."

Casting all your care upon Him, for He careth for you."-1 PETER V. 7.

For me! was it rightly I heard?
The hope too presumptuous, I fear;
Let the sweet, the encouraging word,
Still dwell on my gratified ear.

On my ear, did I say?-little gain,
Little comfort such grief would impart;
Oh, let its deep impress remain
Indelibly stamp'd on my heart.

Does God, then, His creatures invite
Upon Him to cast every care?
His word does Omnipotence plight,
Thus freely their burden to bear?

Oh, let me not baffle such love

By a thankless and cold unbelief!
But His truth who has promised prove,
By resigning my every grief.

Does a Father His fostering hand
From heaven in mercy extend?
And shall I such goodness withstand,
And refuse such a bountiful Friend?

Let me rather with rapture embrace
An offer so gracious and kind,
And unlimited confidence place

In such goodness and power combined.

Has it pleased Him, in wisdom, to take
My earthly dependence away?
Then, with child-like submission, I'll make
His arm my sole pillow and stay.

I'll repose on His words, which declare
That the desolate still He befriends;
Makes the fatherless children His care,
And the cause of the widow defends.

I'll list to His heart-soothing voice.

Who declares that the mourners are blest;
Who invites them in Him to rejoice,
And assures them of comfort and rest.

To the heart truly humbled by woe,
The anointing of joy shall be given;
To the tears that from penitence flow,
The peace that's the foretaste of heaven.

CHAPTER VI.

Lesson of Faith in the Hour of Temptation.

He that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live; and whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die."

HEN the eagle of the Alps would destroy the timid but fleet-footed chamois, he resorts to a curious device. He makes feigned attacks, darting down toward his prey as if to seize it. The frightened chamois flies from its assailant to its accustomed place of refuge from the hunter -to some crag on the edge of a precipice. To so dizzy a spot no mountaineer, however bold, dare venture, and the hunted animal has often found safety there. But the same spot which protects it from man is fatal when the eagle is its pursuer. For the cunning