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" should go away;" how much more can he supply the place of every creature?

May this COMFORTER, writing his word in your mind, help you to say with a confidence highly honourable to himself and his gospel. " My poor perishing gourd is, indeed, withered a day before I expected it; my broken reed is gone; but God is left a father to the fatherless, a husband to the widow. And now, Lord, what wait I for? truly my hope is in thee.' Thou canst give me, 'in thine house, a place and a name better than of sons and of daughters; even an everlasting name, which shall not be cut off:' and, therefore, 'though the fig-tree shall not blossom, neither shall fruit be in the vine, yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the God of my Salvation.' "

Once more; let us endeavour, at such seasons as these, to recognize a GRACIOUS MONITOR. Whenever the Lord strikes, he speaks. Let us listen at such a time as this, with humble attention, yet with holy confidence; for it is the voice of a Friend-a wonderful Counsellor. Let us, with the Prophet, resolve to ascend the tower of observation, and observe " what he will say unto us, and what we shall answer when we are reproved." If with him we thus watch our dispensation, " at the end, like his, it shall speak."

God is continually raising up witnesses, and sending them in his name to " sound the alarm in - Sion." He charges them to admonish the wise, as well as the foolish virgin, to beware of slumbering, since the bridegroom is at hand: and when one is

called away, to cry to those that remain, " Be ye also ready, for in such an hour as ye think not, the Son of man cometh." Some, indeed, like the sons of Lot, desperately scorn the admonition, and treat it as the fear of dotage. Some, like those in the Acts, are in doubt, saying one to another, "What meaneth this?" and others mocking, reply, " These men are full of new wine." But truth, like a rock furiously assaulted, but unshaken, remains to scorn its scorners: and, while the witnesses continue to bear a faithful and consistent testimony, God, sooner or later, appears in vindication of their integrity and his own word. Entering a careless family, he smites the first-born; and, as one that will be heard, calls aloud, "Awake thou that sleepest; arise from the dead, and Christ shall give thee light."

And is it not, my afflicted friend, an infinite mercy, if, by any means, God will enter with such a light, that he will rouse such a sleeper?-that by his minister death, he will arrest the attention of him who has slighted every other minister? What patience! what long suffering! to take such a one apart; bring him from noise and occupation, into the secret and silent chamber; speak to his heart; and seal the most important truths on it by the most affecting impressions? Is it not saying, "How shall I give thee up, Ephraim? how shall I make thee as Admah?" Certain it is, that questions, which before only reached the ear, often now, like barbed arrows, remain fixed in the conscience. Conscience, no longer stifled or amused, discovers the Contender, and trembling before him, cries

"Thou hast chastised me, and I was chastised as a bullock unaccustomed to the yoke: turn thou me, and I shall be turned, for thou art the Lord my God."

This, I say, is often the case, and should it be realized in yours, as it has been in that of your present Visitor; if, instead of flying for relief to every object but God, you are brought humbly to his feet with patient submission, serious inquiry, fervent prayer, holy resolution, and firm reliance: if, in a word, by the severest stroke, the enchantment is also broken, your soul " escaped as a bird out of the snare of the fowler," and returned to its proper rest; what reason will you have to say,

Those we call wretched are a chosen band.-
Amid my list of blessings infinite,

Stand this the foremost That my heart has bled.'
For All I bless Thee; - Most for the severe;

Her death, my own at hand

But death at hand, (as an old writer expresses it,) should be death in view, and lead us to consider next,

Our PROSPECTS from this house of sorrow, as the inhabitants of a present and future world. Many suppose that they can best contemplate the present world, by crowding the "house of mirth:" their whole deportment, however, shows that it makes them much too giddy for serious observation: "having eyes they see not."

Look at the deceased, and contemplate present things. His days, an hand-breadth; his beauty, consumed like the moth-fretten garment; his cares and pleasures, a dream; his attainments, as the grass, which flourisheth in the morning, and in the evening is cut down and withereth; his years, a tale; his strength, labour and sorrow. So soon is the whole cut off and fled, that we cannot help repeating with the Psalmist, Verily, every man, at his best estate, is altogether vanity, or " a vapour that appeareth for a little while, and then vanisheth away."

While

Few, perhaps, reflect, when they follow a friend to his grave, that life itself exhibits little more than a funeral procession, where friend follows friend, weeping to-day, and wept for to-morrow. we are talking of one, another passes: we are alarmed, but behold a third! There is, however, relief in this very reflection: "My friend is gone; but am I weeping as if I were to stay? Is he sent for in the morning? in the afternoon I shall certainly be called." Inconsolable distress, therefore, may ungird our loins, may waste our hours, and cause us to make fatal mistakes in the journey, but does not bring us forward a single step towards meeting our friends in that state, where present joys and sorrows will be recollected only as the dream of a distempered night.

If, after many former admonitions, an enemy still urged us to climb; and, as we ascended, pointed " to the kingdoms of the world and the glory of them:" if our hearts have been the dupes of the vanishing prospect, and our ears eagerly heard the proposal, "All these things will I give thee;" let us now hear the voice of a Friend, calling us, though

"to commune with our heart

in an unexpected way, and be still;" to know " at least in this the day of our visitation, the things which belong to our peace;" and also what those things are which "hide them from our eyes."

It is at such seasons as these, that we more clearly detect the lies of life. It is in the House of Mourning that what the Scripture calls lying vanities, lie peculiarly naked and exposed. Let us here examine what so lately dazzled us. Where now is the "purple and fine linen" that caught our eye? What is it to fare sumptuously only for a day? Who is he that cries, "Soul, thou hast much goods laid up for many years; take thine ease, eat, drink, and be merry?" I trust you now feel the deep misery and utter ruin of that dying creature, who can say nothing better to his soul than this. You can scarcely help crying out, "What sottishness, what madness this, in a moment so interesting as life! with a prospect so awful as eternity!"

The truth is, God speaks variously and incessantly to man respecting his prospects both present and future; but present things seize his heart, blind his eyes, stupify his conscience, and carry him away captive. Now, "affliction is God speaking louder," and striving with the heart of man; crying, as he has lately in your house, “Arise and depart, this is not your rest: it is polluted, and, if you persist in attempting to make a rest of it, will destroy you with a sore destruction."

Our plan, indeed, is the very reverse of his: we love our native soil, and try to strike our roots

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