"Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, to-day and Now the mild and lovely character of the Sa an encouragement to come unto him for salvation, and as an example to be copied by all who have committed their souls into his hands. character of the Saviour, (as the grand and lovely features of it were called forth during his abode in for ever!" our world,) will find it difficult to determine whether there is most to admire, or to imitate in it—viour may be, and ought to be, employed, both as there is so much of both. Many features of his character are, indeed, inimitable in any degree. We can neither copy the authority of his omnipotence, nor imbibe the spirit of his omniscience— He must stand alone on the sea of Tiberias calming the tempest, and at the sepulchre of Bethany raising the dead, and thus tread all the field of miracles, as he trod the wine-press of the wrath of God; for, "of the people there can be none with him." The Nathaniels must be content to pray under their fig-trees undiscovered by human eyes, and many may be devils at the sacramental table without being detected by the officiating minister; for the gift of "discerning spirits," and the power of working miracles, died with the apostles, and resides now only in the person of Christ. In the higher walks of his life, it is therefore equally useless and unnecessary to propose the example of the Saviour as a model for imitation, or as furnishing maxims for our conduct in life there, we can only admire and adore, without the least hope of acquiring any resemblance to his miraculous excellencies. But far different is the state of the case, in regard to the VIRTUES of his character, and the spirit of his miracles; for our ordinary actions may be done in the temper of his mighty works, and the every-day duties of life and godliness may be discharged in the same disposition which led him to heal the sick and raise the dead. If, therefore, we cannot say to our buried Lazaruses, "Come forth," we can cherish the tenderness which "wept" at the tomb. If we cannot rebuke fever in a house, we can soothe the family by sympathizing attentions. If we cannot turn water into wine, we can be thankful for a cup of cold water, and administer it in love, when we have nothing better to take or give; and thus have the spirit, although not the splendor of the Saviour's actions, running through and irradiating our own doings. In regard to our relative duties, nothing extraordinary is expected from us. No bereaved mother looks to us for the restoration of her only son from the bier; nor any suffering friend for health; all that they calculate upon or expect is cordial sympathy and fervent prayer; so that the spirit of Christ's miracles will fully meet all relative de sires. Now, what was the spirit that distinguished the benevolent actions of the Saviour? Not ostentation-for he wished to hide some of his mightiest works; not partiality-for his kindness was as general as it was generous; not caprice-for he was uniformly accessible to all ranks, and, like the sun, rose every day of his ministry upon the dark world, in light and warmth. His temper could be calculated upon to a certainty, at all times and under all circumstances; and those who had been charmed by his gracious words and gentle manners on the Mount of Olives, were sure, when they left his feet, to find on their return the same looks of love on his face, and the same law of kindness on his lips. So uniform was he in his whole character while on earth, that the apostolic boast was (14) 62 tion. For it is not by the death of Christ only that It is an encouragement to apply to him for salvamost: that, indeed, places his good will towards we learn his willingness to save unto the utterman beyond all reasonable doubt, because no greater proof of it could be given than dying that we might live. Demonstration can go no farther; but the same conclusion may be fairly drawn from the uniform meekness and gentleness of his character; these form the steady day-light of his love to man, as his sufferings and death are that love "shining in the greatness of its strength." Indeed, he intended the sweetness of his temper, and the suavity of his manners, to illustrate and exemplify both the genius of his gospel, and the loving kindness of God. Hence the explicit assurance, "He that hath seen me, hath seen the Father also." We are therefore warranted to apply unto God and the Lamb, as freely as the mothers of Israel brought their infants to be blessed-as freely as the friends of the sick brought them to be healed -as freely as the publicans and sinners came to sit at Jesus' feet. And if we would not hesitate, were he on earth, to present our infants to him for his blessing, we need not hesitate to venture our souls upon his atoning blood. His heart is as open to welcome now, as his arms were then. "Give him, my soul, thy cause to plead, But his character is intended also, and should be employed, as an example to copy. The meekness and gentleness of Christ are as binding in in their benevolent aspect. They are not, howtheir practical authority, as they are encouraging ever, so much imitated as they are admired; but rather complimented than copied. Indeed, there are heavy complaints and charges current against many of the avowed followers of Christ. It is thought and said, that in the present day they are not characterised by meekness nor gentleness. They ought to be like the cherubim upon the ancient mercy-seat; of the same metal and polish as the propitiatory which they stand upon; and, if in general they are not so, it is imperative on your sex, as well as the pulpit, both to expose and improve the wrong spirit and the wrong manners of the age-that all who have been "cast in the mould of the gospel" may be polished, as well as moulded. 1 Peter iii. 1, 6. Thus, as women were the first at the sepulchre of Christ to see him alive, so they are chiefly charged to copy his meek ness and gentleness, both for their own sake, and to win others. Now (without joining issue with the sweeping charges just referred to) it must be acknowledged that some of the avowed followers of Christ are unamiable both in their spirit and deportment. Some of them are consequential, and others capricious; some reserved, and others morose; some 1 irritable and others peevish; some rash, and others captious. These things ought not to be. But still, whilst we deplore and condemn them as unchristian, we ought to bear in mind how much worse the persons chargeable with them must have been if they had had no religion; for if they are disagreeable notwithstanding all the restraints of conscience, they must have been intolerable without them. As a good man once said of his wife, when a neighbor wondered how he could bear her unhappy temper, "I keep thinking how much worse it would be if she had no grace."And the fact is, it is with some minds as with some fields there are thorns and briers in them even after much pains has been taken to cultivate the soil; and, although this cannot be too deeply lamented, we must not forget what the soil would have been without cultivation. It is not intended by these remarks, to palliate, or apologise for wrong tempers, but simply to present the case in all its bearings and aspects. It ought, therefore, to be stated explicitly that it is the difficulty of conquering them, rather than reluctance to relinquish them which keeps so many serious persons in bondage to bad tempers. They have tried to overcome them, and failed; and, therefore, they are tempted to invent, or avail themselves of excuses for what seems, in their case, unconquerable. But the fallacy of these excuses is demonstrable, and ought to be demonstrated to all professed Christians, that they may not have recourse to them, either openly or secretly. Some excuse their bad tempers upon the plea that they are constitutional or natural. But, if this were a valid excuse for any wrong temper, it would be so for any vice, and might be employed to palliate lust, intemperance, and revenge; for the slaves of these vile passions find them equally constitutional,-if that could justify them. We ought, therefore, to be exceedingly cautious how we sanction a maxim which may be interpreted in behalf of any sin; for although we may want only to excuse a failing, others may employ it to excuse a gross fault. it It is certain, however, that some temperaments are naturally sweeter than others, and that some persons, without any effort, can be both meeker and gentler than others who make great efforts to "rule their spirit." Immense differences, in this respect, are discernible in the same family, and show themselves in children, before temper can be an acquired habit of the mind. Now this obvious truth may be allowed to have all the weight, both as fact and argument, which any one, who has not a selfish purpose to answer, can desire; but what then? If the natural temper of my mind be irritable, or peevish, or capricious, the gospel is able, and intended to subdue it,-demands its subjugation to "the mind of Christ;" insists upon it as an essential part of Christian character. Unless, therefore, I watch and pray against the besetting sin of my spirit, either my professed allegiance to Christ is mere pretence, whatever reliance upon him I may avow; or if it be not, I am preparing for myself, like Rachel, some "vengeance on my inventions," which may be as trying, if not so startling, as her leprosy. ALLEGORY. No. 2. RACHEL'S EXILE. FROM the moment that the leprosy fell upon Rachel like snow on Lebanon, the moral leprosy of her spirit began to melt and pass away, like snow from the golden pinnacles of the Temple. Like Miriam, the sister of Moses, she understood and bowed to the rebuke of Jehovah at once. Whilst Esrom only exclaimed with Job, "Show me wherefore Thou contendest with me," Rachel meekly said, "I will bear the indignation of the Lord, for I have sinned against him. There is no need, ESROM, that God should speak from the whirlwind, in order to explain this visitation. It explains itself in a loud voice; and that, not from the secret place of thunder.' It is vengeance on our inventions!" Esrom then felt that he had been the leader in these inventions; and thus, that he was the chief cause, although not the chief victim, of the vengeance. He, therefore, resolved at once to brave all the consequences of watching over Rachel, during her banishment into the Beershebean wilderness. He would have borne her leprosy itself, could he have removed it from her to himself. He did what he could. He pitched her tent in the wilderness, with his own hands, under the shadow of a great rock, and close to a well of living water. He strewed it with the myrrh of Carmel, and the camphire of Engedi. He placed in it the vessel with which he had drawn water from the fountain of Siloam, when he first appeared before God in Zion. Skins, also, of the wild goats of Bether, and of the rams of Nebaioth, were in it for a couch; parched corn and grapes for food. And in its recess, under a vase of lilies of the valley, he placed her little ark of gopher-wood, in which her ancestral copy of the law was deposited. He had saved that treasure, of her fathers unclean, and whilst the people were on the day when the elders pronounced the house razing it to the ground. tention. That ark contained the covenant of her Nothing gratified Rachel so much, as this atGod, and her own covenant with Esrom; for the deed of her betrothment lay beneath her pentateuch and psalter. She did not forget her ark on the day of her exile from her father's house; but she was afraid to bring it away under the veil of her leprosy. She felt, as if its sacred contents would be less dishonored by perishing in the ruins of her habitation, than by escaping in the shadow of her shame. She was even afraid to name it to Esrom; and he was too considerate to name it to her. Rachel had never wept during her calamity. Her eyes burned like coals of juniper in a furnace of brass; not like dew-stars in the firmament. Esrom hoped that nature, as well as grace, would find relief, by the surprise he had prepared for them, in the little sanctuary in the wilderness. He judged aright. She entered the tent leaning upon his arm. Its coolness did not revive her, nor its fragrance soothe her: but when her eye fell upon her ark, her spirit melted. Rachel wept. Esrom blessed the God of his fathers, in silence. It was a holy hour! Angels heard each of them say unto God, "I have gone astray like a lost sheep; seek thy servant, for I do not forget thy commandments." THE ANGEL OF THE COVENANT heard each of them cry, "Create in me a clean heart, O God; and renew a right spirit within me. Wash me, and I shall be whiter than now." When Esrom entered the tent in the morning, he found Rachel still a leper; but the unnatural brightness of her eyes had been softened by her tears, and the dry and deathly coldness of her hand was moderated. She had just deposited the covenant in her ark, and replaced the vase of lilies upon it, so arranged, that their broad leaves, like wings, overshadowed it. to cast me out!' He must have done it, had he been at home: but, although he would have done it gently as the angel of the Lord drove out our first parents from Paradise, I am glad, for his sake and my own, that it is not to do! And, as he can never own me again, I will never render it necessary for him to disown me.' It was evening: and this was their evening sacrifice. When it closed, Esrom said, "The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit: a broken and "It never will be necessary to disown you, Raa contrite heart, he will not despise,' whoever else chel!" Esrom replied. "Sheshbazzar will soon may do so." With this salutation, Esrom left have the pleasure to write your name anew, the tent; and, having wrapped himself in the skin amongst the daughters of the covenant in Beerof a young lion, which had perished in the swell-sheba, and even to enroll it amongst the living in ings of Jordan, he ascended the great rock above Jerusalem; for already the plague has ceased to the tent, to keep watch during the night. He spread on you, and I have caught no infection. It watched "unto prayer," also. So did Rachel.—is no longer a fretting leprosy.' He who woundNeither slumbered nor slept. Both prayed as in ed you, has begun to heal you; and, as in the the days of old. Neither remembered the elders, case of Miriam, God will perfect that which conexcept to ponder, how men of one idea may have cerneth you, and restore to you the timbrel of his much devotion. praise, at the tabernacle of his presence. Be of good cheer: he is healing our blackslidings, and he will blot out our iniquities, for his own name's sake. I feel warranted, already, by his faithfulness as the hearer of prayer, to provide the 'two living birds, the cedar wood, and scarlet, and hyssop,' for the day of your purification in the temple." Having said this, Esrom led her to the door of the tent, and left her for the day without "The emblem is but too true, Esrom," she fear; being well aware that neither the shepherds said: "the leaves of the frailest of the flowers of nor the hunters in the wilderness, would venture the field, not the wings of the CHERUBIM have near the tent of leprosy. He returned to Beerovershadowed my ark. I rather garlanded than sheeba to guide his affairs with discretion; and, guarded it; and, therefore, the glory departed.—that his kinsmen, and neighbors, and his men serWill that glory ever return? I have read the covenant of promise this morning, with relish: shall I ever read it again with hope? Will my present penitence be as fading as the lilies of the valley?" Esrom had not anticipated this application of his device. He had placed the flower she loved most, upon the ark she deemed lost; that pleasure might soften her surprise, when she found it again. "I meant no moral, Rachel," he said, "when I set the vase of lilies upon the lid of the ark." But Sheshbazzar would say,-"The root of them will not die, when their leaves wither, and their fragrance passes away. Their root is still in the valley, and will continue to yield flowers in its season, whilst it continues in its native soil. Let us keep our spirit in the valley; and we shall not only grow as the lily, but cast forth our roots as Lebanon." Rachel had never named Sheshbazzar, from the moment she was pronounced to be a leper. She saw how his high character was staked upon her integrity; and felt that she was not likely to redeem, by her own future During seven days Esrom went and returned character, the pledges he had given to the elders. thus, between Beersheba, and the tent in the He often vouched for her sincerity to them; and wilderness; his step still firm, and his countenow, they said, "God had branded her a hypo-nance unchanged. Every evening he reported crite." And, what answer could Sheshbazzar to Rachel, the progress of public opinion in Beergive to this charge against his judgment? She sheba: and every morning he gave directions to could think of none-if she were to be a leper until the day of her death: and she had no hope of recovering. "We owe it, Esrom, to Sheshbazzar," said Rachel, "to see him no more. He is too deeply committed by me, to reinstate his authority in the synagogue, without disowning me. I am expelled from the synagogue already, and I will not expose him to the painful necessity of confirming the sentence of the elders. It is well that he had not vants and maid servants, might see that he had not tempted the Holy One of Israel, by waiting on Rachel. He calculated the effect of appearing on his farm, and in the streets, humbled, but unhurt. The bloom of health was on his cheek, and the simple majesty of the palm-tree in his form. He was grave, but not sad; perfectly composed, but perfectly natural. No one could suspect him of acting a part. His object was to moderate the clamor of the rash, and to enable the prudent to suspend their judgment: but he employed no stratagem. He left his appearance and spirit to make their own impression. And many were silenced, and not a few softened. Some indeed said, that "the thin yellow hair" (Lev. 13) of a fretting leprosy would soon be visible on his brow or his beard. Others affirmed that the rose on his cheek, was a whitish red," already. But all wondered after him; and some prayed for him, that "the desire of his eyes" might not be "taken away" by the stroke of judgment. his ploughmen and vine-dressers, to his masons and carpenters, to his hewers of wood and drawers of water, just as he was wont to do when he began to manage his farm, and to rebuild the house of his fathers. All his conduct and spirit indicated an humble, but lively hope of Rachel's recovery. Thus, although he said nothing to the people, he compelled them to think much. This course, Esrom pursued for Sheshbazzar's sake; that no burst of mockery or upbraiding might meet him, on his return from Jerusalem. | come fruitless?" The pilgrims departed in siHe had planned, also, to meet the good old man by the way; deeming that the sight of Rachel would shock him less, than the clamors of the people. He intended also to detain him a day and a night in the wilderness, that by special and united prayer, the eagle and the eaglets of Beersheba might fully renew their youth, before resuming the nest of their youth. It was, therefore, with joy unspeakable he heard Sheshbazzar say at once, on seeing Rachel, "There is hope in Israel concerning this leprosy :" for any salutation less cordial or prompt, would not have silenced the clamor of the pilgrims, nor revived her spirit. Her heart was too "sick" with suspense to endure "hope deferred." Had Sheshbazzar been silent at first, or but slow to speak, or had he spoken with less confidence or tenderness than Esrom, her heart would have broke. He knew this; and like Noah, took his weary and weak dove into the ark at once. · It had been with great difficulty, Esrom had persuaded her to meet "the guide of her youth" in the wilderness. Even when she consented to go forth, she said, "Jephthah's daughter knew not the pang, which her sudden appearance would inflict upon her father. Her timbrels and dances brought him very low :' but she was the unconscious cause of his anguish. Sheshbazzar will be equally shocked and what can I say when he rends his clothes, exclaiming, Alas, my daughter, thou hast brought me very low; thou art one of them that trouble me.'" "Nay," said Esrom, "such lamentation will not rush to his lips; like Moses with Miriam, he will intercede for thee at once, and be the first to welcome thee unto his camp and counsel again; for, like Moses, he is as meek as he is wise." lence; but not in sympathy with their leader, or with his lamb. They were afraid to speak; but they were not afraid to suspect the prudence of Sheshbazzar, or the sincerity of Rachel. He understood their looks; but said nothing more. He turned from them; and, "leaning on the top of his staff, worshipped," until they were out of sight. Whilst thus musing, the fire burned: then, spake he with his tongue. "I am too much humbled by the leprosy of the spirits of all flesh, to be shocked or surprised at bodily leprosy. Not that I think lightly of it. It is the strangest of all God's 'strange works;' his rod of rods, and cup of trembling, when he visits our sins with stripes, and our iniquities with chastisements; but lo, all these things worketh God, (and many such things are with him,) that "he may save souls alive." Some souls can only be saved from unhallowed curiosity and vain imaginations, by startling judg ments which, like the sword of the Destroying Angel, so weaken their hearts in "one night," that they dare not turn again to folly and others require a flaming sword perpetually before their eyes, or a clearing cross upon their shoulder, in order to keep them from folly; because, like Eve, they are least suspicious of themselves when most happy, and like Lucifer, most aspiring when brightest. The Son of the Morning speculated in heaven, and the Daughter of the Morning, in paradise; and both fell. "Rachel, thou hast fallen too: but not like Lucifer, to rise no more; but like Eve, to be raised up again. I meet thee in the wilderness; but not like Cain, fleeing from the presence of Jehovah; but like Abel, worshipping before the Sheckinah. God will not despise the sacrifice of a broken spirit, in the desert; and he will accept thy burnt offering, in the sanctuary. Mercy will yet rejoice over judgment, and over thee, with singing." 66 The case of Miriam was so often quoted and referred to by Esrom, as a parallel to her own case, that Rachel could not forget it altogether. Again and again she proved to herself, that she "Sheshbazzar, I was the tempter," said Esrom; was not a Miriam, but in her sin and punishment:" and first in the transgression. But for me,for she had never been as a sister to the elders Rachel had not fallen." And, but for you Rashe had spoken against; nor had her timbrel ever chel had not been restored," said Sheshbazzar. led the song of the Red Sea, when the people ce. It was "a dark saying:" neither Esrom nor Ralebrated the EXODUS. But still the parallel chel understood it; but neither could forget it. haunted her. It was a case in point, so far as "Is there any thing before me," said Esrom, their sin and sentence were alike:-and, might "which, without her, I could not go through?" not their pardon be alike too? This question, if "Does this leprosy bear upon my betrothed, as it did not create hope, maintained prayer. And well as upon myself?" said Rachel. "I will exwhen Sheshbazzar identified her case with Miri-plain in the tent," said the old man. No. III. VARIETIES, FROM MISTAKES. am's at once, her prayer, which had only risen upon the one wing of submissive desire, rose on the twin wings of meek solicitude and humble hope. "Sheshbazzar as well as Esrom," she said to herself, "takes the same view of my case." Whilst Rachel was reflecting thus, Sheshbazzar dismissed the pilgrims of Beersheba. "I tarry in the wilderness," he said, "to lead on this lamb WHATEVER may be the faults or the defects of of the flock as she can bear: return ye to the fold in peace; and see that ye limit not the Holy One of Israel by interpreting her calamity, as Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar did the trials of Job. Leave it to them, to mistake providence; and to Satan to impugn motives. Let us who are aged, especially, judge ourselves, that we may not be judged for if these things be done in the green tree, what shall be done in the dry tree, if it be our character and spirit, there is not one of them so peculiar, but that some ancient proverb might be found to reprove it, or some experimental maxim to condemn it. Indeed, if either exposures or reproofs could cure faults, the conscientious would soon be faultless: for, what sin, of heart or life, has not been found aud declared, by many, to be "an evil and a bitter thing?" Experience, as well as Revelation, has planted a "flaming Why is it, that neither the experience of ages, even when its warnings become proverbs; nor our own experience, even when it is bitter, has power enough to correct what they thus condemn? Why are we so slow to do and become, all that we feel we ought to do and be? This is not explained by saying, that nothing but the sanctifying grace of the Holy Spirit can subdue our faults. That is very true: but it was equally true years ago; and yet, in some things, we are as faulty as ever. Thus the Spirit does not touch them, when we let them alone: except, indeed, when he strikes at them by the sharp rods of providence, or frowns upon them by dark clouds of desertion; and neither of these modes of communicating sanctifying grace is "joyous, but grievous," however it may yield the peaceable fruits of righteousness afterwards. sword" upon the gate of all wrong habits and tempers; and, although the sword of the former does not, like that of the latter, "turn every way," nor turn at all in the hands of "Cherubim," it turns and flames too, enough to render us without excuse when we yield to temptation. For, who, of all the hosts of the peevish, the impatient, the irritable, or the rash, ever left a dying testimony in favor of their besetting sin? Many a tombstone in the church-yards of our cities and villages, records the domestic happiness and the public esteem, which the virtues and graces of Christian character gained for their possessors; but not one tells of a vice that did no harm, nor of an imperfection that did any good. Gravestones often flatter the dead; but they never say that a passionate or peevish woman was happy, in heart or at home, notwithstanding her ill temper. They never ascribe conjugal love nor maternal influ- It is very easy to talk fine things about sanctience, to fashionable follies, or to frivolous accom-fying grace: but the sober truth is, that that grace plishments. Neither the toilette nor the piano, the pencil nor the harp, is ever engraven on the URN, as the explanatory emblem of the character of the deceased; except, indeed, she has been an actress! But not only do proverbs and experience condemn our faults: we ourselves condemn the same faults in others, whenever they affect our own interest or convenience. Then we are quite sure, that one might be more courteous, and another more reasonable, and a third more amiable, and a fourth far less talkative, if they would only try! Thus we see no difficulty to prevent them from being to us, all they ought to be; and no excuse for them, when they offend us. "Is it not very easy to be polite to one? What good do they get to themselves, from their high airs, or from their snappish humors, or from their capricious conduct? I have no patience with such insolence, nor with such impertinencies." is just Divine power giving effect to the gospel itself, or to providence along with the gospel, or to eternal things along with both. The Spirit works by them all in turn, and by them all together; but never without any of them. He may begin sanctification by affliction, whilst the gospel is not much known: or he may begin it by the gospel, whilst affliction is quite unknown: but he will not carry it on long in either way. He will lead out the afflicted to the Cross of Christ more fully; or he will lay some cross upon the believing, when their faith itself becomes less purifying. This is the general rule of both the work and the witness of the Holy Spirit. Whilst his right hand is for ever glorifying Christ by the gospel, his left is often doing the same by the furnace. He thus sanctifies by the truth, and by providence. There is, however, a way of carrying on sanctification, without much affliction. There is a "needs be " for some, in the case of all Christians; There it is! We can chafe ourselves into a and, accordingly, all are chastised more or less. bad spirit, by chiding, even in thought, the faults" For, what son is he" (or what daughter is she) and follies of others. Let them only interfere with our comfort, or be somewhat more and greater than our own, and we can be lawgivers and judges against both. Even this is not the weakest nor the worst side of our hearts, in regard to our faults. We can condemn them in ourselves, and yet continue them. We can lament them, and yet allow them to go on. We can even give up excusing them. and yet expect others to forgive and forget them: or rather to overlook them entirely; for we do not like the idea of being forgiven by any one but God. Would that this were all! But it is not. We are quite capable, even after having found our besetting sin of habit or temper, a hinderance to prayer, and a dead weight on hope, to give way to it still. Who has not resolved, at a sacrament it embittered, or under a chastisement it had provoked, or at the breaking up of a backsliding it had brought on, that it should be cut off and cast away? But the casting away, has not followed the cutting off. The hand has held it, after the heart condemned it. It has got back to its old place again, either by some ligament which was left uncut, or under the promise that it would no onger betray us. "whom the Father chasteneth not?" Still, as the whole and sole object of chastisement is, the taking away of sin, or the promotion of holiness; that object may be secured in some degree by other means. Indeed, God prefers other means to the rod, when they answer the purpose. Judgment is always his "strange work," even in sanctification. I mean, he does not "afflict willingly." Let any sin be really given up, or any neglected duty taken up, on the ground of any holy motive whatever, and he can dispense with the rod. Yea, he will be delighted to have, thus, no occasion to use it. Well; the contemplation of " ETERNAL THINGS' can supersede the necessity of temporal affliction, and especially of spiritual calamity, in many cases. Did you ever observe this fact in your Bible? If not, you have a new and a noble lesson to learn. I say "noble," because if the sight of the words ETERNAL THINGS, suggest to your mind only dismal, or dark, or even awful ideas, you have yet to study the subject. All eternal things are, indeed, solemn: so are all the perfections of God; so are all the glories of the Lamb: so are all the sweet influences of the Holy Spirit: but their solemnity does not detract from their sweetness. It heightens their beauty by hallowing it. And had you contemplated eternity, as you have the Divine |