in the hand that afflicts us the hand of a Father. When called to do it, in the Providence of God, let us follow our friends with a pious and unwavering trust to those peaceful abodes where the dead sleep, yielding them up, without a repining thought, into the hands of Him who has been pleased to make the grave the gate of heaven. Perhaps our loss has been great, peculiarly great; but then it is the measure and nothing but the measure of the blessing we have had. In the midst of our sorrow, therefore, let us not forget devoutly to thank God, not indeed that we have lost such a friend, but that “ we have had such a friend to lose." And when our own frames are sinking under age or infirmity, may our spirits be sustained by that noble confidence, of which the apostle speaks: "Therefore, we are always confident, knowing that whilst we are at home in the body, we are absent from the Lord. We are confident, I say, and willing rather to be absent from the body, and to be present with the Lord."

J. W.

The Occasions and Remedy of Excessive Grief.

When my heart is overwhelmed, lead me to the Rock,
that is higher than I.

But

THERE are sorrows in which the heart may be overwhelmed. There are forms and circumstances of grief, in the remembrance of which even the most submissive child of God may say, "I had fainted, except I had trusted to see the goodness of the Lord." expressions like these are to be applied only to the severest calamities. They can seldom be employed because, happily, the sufferings they denote are unusual. In the ordinary trials of life we are not permitted to yield to overwhelming grief. Such a state would be disproportioned to the nature of the affliction, and inconsistent with our character as christians and as men. The loss of property, unless involving a loss of reputation, which, unregretted and unatoned for, admits no solace; the disappointment of some earthly hope, of our vanity, ambition, or any selfish passion, and even bereavement itself, in its

most usual forms, would scarcely justify that desolation of the spirit, which seems implied in the expression of the royal Psalmist. Nor are there many who are in much danger from such a state. The great proportion of mankind are impatient of trouble. It stays not long enough to overwhelm them. They are eager to seek relief, as well from its monitions as its pains, in the business or the amusements of life; and one of the hardest works of religion is to teach some men how to feel; to persuade them to regard the operation of the Lord, and not to despise his chastening. But even where there exists a greater sensibility, the common trials which our heavenly Father appoints are compatible with an inward tranquillity and the right discharge of duty. We should be grateful that it is so. Otherwise, the wheels of life would stop; the order of families would be disturbed; and the affairs of the world would be exposed to perpetual interruption.

What then are the afflictions that overwhelm the soul? It may be difficult to describe them. They will be more easily understood than uttered; for they are those in which the heart only can know its own bitterness, and the stranger cannot intermeddle. They are

those in which Jehovah sometimes appears in his mysterious and incomprehensible majesty; in his character as sovereign and judge, "creating darkness and evil," rather than peace; when his way is in the sea, and his footsteps in the deep; when in the language of the desponding Psalmist, "deep calleth unto deep; " one wave of sorrow succeeds another; and "all God's billows are rolling over us." There are instances when all the divine chastisements seem at once inflicted; and the record of domestic calamity, like the scroll beheld in the vision of the prophet, is inscribed, "within and without, with lamentation and mourning and wo." Have you never known the pious and affectionate father, the tender and devoted mother, called to part in quick succession with the children of their love? with the fair objects of their dependence and hope? When so frequent and so speedy were the ravages of death, that the turf could scarcely harden over their recently-opened tomb, before it would be again and again disturbed to receive another and another, till, within a few weeks, almost a whole family shall be laid together in the dark and narrow house; and the dwelling, that but a little before was the seat of

domestic cheerfulness, affection, and hope, is turned to solitude and gloom? Let us bless God that we are not often called to witness such sad reverses. Yet, when the pestilence walks in darkness and contagion multiplies its victims, such are no uncommon displays of the divine judgments. Amidst too those awful desolations of nature, sometimes occurring in regions less favored than our own in the whirlwind, the earthquake, or the falling mountain-instances have been known, when scarcely one was spared of a numerous house; or if a solitary survivor of his family, he may find himself without a friend to impart comfort to his desolated soul. those also who, even amidst the happiest communities, are conversant with the children of affliction, examples are never long wanting to exercise their painful sympathies; in which poverty and sickness combine, perhaps, with the inflictions of vice and of an upbraiding conscience, to give to bereavement a peculiar and aggravated distress. It would be easy to portray scenes which many may have witnessed; and in comparison with which the more common allotments of heaven seem as tender mercies.

Το

But there are other forms of overwhelming