But

which have in every age been acted upon our globe, without believing that the expressions which the Scriptures contain are somthing more than figures! In this happy land indeed, and in these happy days, surrounded as we are with knowledge, and riches, and refinement; enjoying, even in war, the best privileges of peace, and cheered with the glad tidings of the Gospel of righteousness, we may be disposed to indulge in pleasing visions of the general happiness of our fellow-creatures; measuring, in some degree, their feelings by our own, and willing (naturally and justly willing, to find, in the imagination of their enjoyments, a source of pious thankfulness and pleasure. Of all illusions, perhaps, this is the most amiable and innocent. no mistake is free from danger; and it becomes the humble Christian to acquire fortitude sufficient to contemplate with entire resignation, though not indeed without sensibility, every part of the dispensations of his Maker. I know not whether, to a feeling mind, the past history and present condition of our fellow-creatures, is not, of all subjects, the most affecting. How have they been trampled down age after age, the slaves of sin, the sport of tyranny and ambition; equally a prey to their own vices, and to those of their governors! Even while I now write, while the peals of triumph are ringing round us, and the "song of Hope" is heard again, what thousands are perishing in misery, the victims of wickedness and folly; what tens of thousands are weeping in silence, over the unknown death or

hopeless captivity of those who were most dear to them!

Of unregarded fame

Died the mean man ;-yet did he leave behind
One who shall never say her daily prayers
Of him forgetful; who to every sound
Of distant war, lending an eager ear,

Grew pale and trembled; at her cottage door
The widowed one shall sit, and never know
Her husband slaughtered, but in hope and fear
Weep on*.

Nor is the present age more full of sorrows than those which are past. The heart sickens at the contemplation of the horrors which fill the pages of history; which have swelled the triumphs of Eastern conquerors, and tracked the steps of the plunderers of the West; which have "dyed the sands of Africa, and stained with silent and inglorious torrents the snows of the polar regionst." Civilization, we are told, has generally begun in conquest; thus our blessings have their foundation in misery it has always produced corruption; and thus they end in guilt. Surely it is not in a world like this, that any wise or good man would wish to take up his permanent residence, even if it were possible. Or grant that these colours are too dark and gloomy: let the scene be sketched by the brightest pencil: yet there is sickness, and sorrow,

and weariness, and pain, and disappointment, and separation from those we love: there is sin within us and around us; and labour, the fruit of sin; and death, the end of both. Undoubtedly, all this notwithstanding, existence is generally a blessing: I mean independently of its reference to futurity. But he surely is greatly to be pitied, who can think that such an existence is worthy of being compared with a holy and everlasting kingdom; and he too is not wholly blameless, who, with the promised inheritance before him, still casts a sad and lingering look at the world which he renounces. I knew a French gentleman who had passed some of his early years at Paris, and tasted, I fear, too freely of the gaieties and vices of that capital. He delighted to talk of the happiness of his younger days, before the Revolution had driven him abroad; and he still ended, with a sigh, "Je pleure ma jeunesse." The confession was very honest and very melancholy. He mourned the loss of pleasures which he had enjoyed only a little while, but of which he still cherished too lively a recollection. If all whose hearts are devoted to this world were equally sincere, I am afraid the same lamentation would be often repeated. Compare now this acknowledgment with the language of the blessed Apostle; and let the fondest lover of this life judge between them: "I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory that shall be revealed in us. For the earnest expectation of the creature waiteth for the manifesta

tion of the sons of God. For the creature was made subject to vanity (not willingly, but by reason of him who hath subjected the same) in hope; because the creature itself also shall be delivered from the bondage of corruption into the glorious liberty of the children of God. For we know that the whole creation groaneth and travaileth in pain together until now. And not only they, but ourselves also, which have the first-fruits of the Spirit ; even we ourselves groan within ourselves, waiting for the adoption, to wit, the redemption of our body. For we are saved by Hope. But Hope that is seen is not hope: for what a man seeth, why doth he yet hope for? But if we hope for that we see not, then do we with patience wait for it.

With patience wait for it. This is in perfect conformity with the language of our Redeemer. "In patience possess ye your souls." "Be faithful unto death, and I will give thee a crown of life.” Hope is given us for our consolation; and consolation is intended for those who need it. The nature of this heavenly grace implies that we are at present subjected to trials, which prove and exercise our faith; which are sufficient to arouse and invigorate the mind, but never to overwhelm it. The Christian's path is beset with snares; and happy, happy they, who at the close of life, when they cast their eyes backwards, can behold the traces of suffering, but not of sin. Tears and anguish of heart are indeed the proper consequences of guilt, at once its punishment and its cure: the tears that flow

from any other cause are only yielded to the infirmity of our nature. And these are quickly wiped away, where the heart is right with God. For patience, courage, and fortitude, are as essential to the character of the complete Christian, as the fairest graces of piety. We dishonour God, if we distrust his faithfulness; we deny our Redeemer, if we are afraid "to take the cross, and follow after him." The road is not long, and it leads direct to heaven. How can we think it sad, when we recollect who it is that sustains, and whither he conducts us!

Still unmoved let Hope remain,
Fixed on true substantial joy:
Dangers then shall threat in vain,

Pains torment, or cares annoy:
Then shall every guiltless pleasure
Smile with charms unknown before,

Hope, secure in real treasure,

Mourn her blasted joys no more:
Then through each revolving year,
Though earthly glories fade away,

Though youth, and strength, and life itself decay;
Yet still more bright the prospect shall appear,
Happier still the latest day,

Brightest far the parting ray :

O'er life's last scene celestial beams shall shine,

Till death at length shall burst the chain,

While songs of triumph sound on high;
Then shall Hope her power resign,

Lost in endless ecstacy,

And never-fading joy in heaven's full glories reign.

* Poems and Essays by the late Miss Bowdler.