whom compassions flow. We may have no earthly friend to whom we can with full confidence disclose all our sorrows; or we may want words in which to express them. But God is the searcher of all hearts; and the hearer of all prayers. To the secret anguish of the soul, he is no inattentive witness. Every groan which is heaved from the labouring bosom, though heard by no human ear, reaches his throne. As he knows our frame, so he remembers we are dust; and thence light arises to the upright in darkness. For the hope naturally springs, that this beneficent Being will pity them as a father pitieth his children; and in the midst of those distresses which the present circumstances of man render unavoidable, will send them help from his sanctuary. Surrounded with this compassionate presence of the Almighty, good men never view themselves as left in this vale of tears, to bear, solitary and alone, the whole weight of human woe. In their dark, as well as in their brighter hours, God is with them. Even in that valley of the shadow of death, where no friend, no comforter, can go along to aid them, he is with them still. In the last extremity of nature, the rod and staff of the Shepherd of Israel support them.

THUS I have shewn, though in an imperfect manner, what benefits holy men derive from an habitual sense of the Divine presence. It animates and strengthens their virtue. It enlivens and brightens their prosperity. Under various forms of adversity, it affords them consolation and relief.-Such considerations, undoubtedly, form a strong argument in favour of a devout spirit, and a virtuous life. But they are considerations which may, probably, be regarded, by some, as ideal and visionary; requiring aid from a heated, or an enthusiastic fancy, in order to give them force. I readily admit that, amidst the hurry and turbulence of the world, it may be difficult to bring these religious sentiments as fully into view as is necessary for their making a just impression on the soul. This requires the effort of an intelligent and feeling mind; and therefore cannot be expected to be commonly found. To the unreflecting crowd, nothing appears real, but what is exposed to sense. What is invisible, is the same to them, as if it had no existence. But by the grossness of their own conceptions, they have no title to measure those of others. While they affect to treat all considerations, taken from the sense of the Divine presence, as visionary and enthusiastic, it can, on the contrary, be clearly shown, that they are founded on the most certain and unquestionable principles of reason. They essentially belong not to revealed only, but to natural religion. Their reality can be denied by none, but those who deny that God exists, or that he governs the world. For if he exists, he must undoubtedly pervade and inspect the world which he governs. must know what is going on throughout his own universe; and

He

especially must know what passes in the hearts which he has made, and of which he is to judge. To be every where present, is the attribute of his nature, which, of all others, is the most necessary to his administration of the universe. This, accordingly, is an attribute which all religions have ascribed to him. All nations have believed in it. All societies appeal to it, in the solemnities of an oath, by which they determine controversies. This attribute being once admitted to belong to the Deity, the consequences which I have deduced from it, plainly and naturally follow: And every good man has ground to say, Oh Lord, I am contin rally with thee.

SERMON XLE

ON PATIENCE

In your Patience possess ye your souls.-LUKE xxi. 19.

THE possession of our souls is a very emphatical expression. It describes that state in which a man has both the full command, and the undisturbed enjoyment, of himself; in opposition to his undergoing some inward agitation which discomposes his powers. Upon the least reflection it must appear, how essential such a state of mind is to happiness. He only who thus possesses his soul is capable of possessing any other thing with advantage; and in order to attain and preserve this self-possession, the most important requisite is, the habitual exercise of patience.

I know that patience is apt to be ranked, by many, among the more humble and obscure virtues; belonging chiefly to those who groan on a sick bed, or who languish in a prison. If their situation be, happily, of a different kind, they imagine that there is no occasion for the discipline of patience being preached to them. But I hope to make it appear, that, in every circumstance, of life, no virtue is more important, both to duty and to happiness; or more requisite for forming a manly and worthy character. It is not confined to a situation of continued adversity. It principally, indeed, regards the disagreeable circumstances which are apt to occur. But in our present state, the occurrence of these is so frequent, that in every condition of life, patience is incessantly called forth. Prosperity cannot be enjoyed, any more than adversity supported, without it. It must enter into the temper, and form the habit of the soul, if we would pass through the world with tranquility and honour. What I propose is to point out some of the chief occasions on which patience is required; and to recommend and enforce the exercise of it, in order to our possessing our souls.

I. PATIENCE under provocations. The wide circle of human society is diversified by an endless variety of characters, dispositions, and passions. Uniformity is, in no respect, the genius of the world. Every man is marked by some peculiarity which distinguishes him from another; and no where can two individuals be found who are exactly, and in all respects, alike. Where so much diversity obtains, it cannot but happen, that, in the intercourse which men are obliged to maintain, their tempers shall often be ill adjusted to that intercourse; shall jar, and interfere with each other. Hence, in every station, the highest as well as the lowest, and in every condition of life, public, private, and domestic, occasions of irritation frequently arise. We are provoked, sometimes, by the folly and levity of those with whom we are connected; sometimes by their indifference, or neglect; by the incivility of a friend, the haughtiness of a superior, or the insolent behaviour of one in lower station. Hardly a day passes, without somewhat or other occurring, which serves to ruffle the man of impatient spirit. Of course, such a man lives in a continual storm. He knows not what it is to enjoy a train of good humour. Servants, neighbours, friends, spouse, and children, all, through the unrestrained violence of his temper. become sources of disturbance and vexation to him. In vain is affluence; in vain are health and prosperity. The least trifle is sufficient to discompose his mind, and poison his pleasures. His very amusements are mixed with turbulence and passion.

I would beseech this man to consider, of what small moment the provocations which he receives, or at least imagines himself to receive, are really in themselves; but of what great moment he makes them, by suffering them to deprive him of the possession of himself. I would beseech him to consider, how many hours of happiness he throws away, which a little more patience would allow him to enjoy; and how much he puts it in the power of the most insignificant persons to render him miserable. "But who can expect," we hear him exclaim, "that he "is to possess the insensibility of a stone? How is it possible "for human nature to endure so many repeated provocations? "or to bear calmly with such unreasonable behaviour ?My brother! If you can bear with no instances of unreasonable behaviour, withdraw yourself from the world. You are no longer fit to live in it. Leave the intercourse of men. Retreat to the mountain and the desert; or shut yourself up in a cell. For here, in the midst of society, offences must come. You might as well expect, when you beheld a calm atmosphere, and a clear sky, that no clouds were ever to rise, and no winds to blow, as that your life was long to proceed without receiving provocations from human frailty. The careless and the imprudent, the giddy and the fickle, the ungrateful and the interested, every

where meet us. They are the briars and the thorns, with which the paths of human life are beset. He only who can hold his course among them with patience and equanimity, he who is prepared to bear what he must expect to happen, is worthy of the name of man.

Did you only preserve yourself composed for a moment, you would perceive the insignificancy of most of those provocations which you magnify so highly. When a few suns more have rolled over your head, the storm will have, of itself, subsided : the cause of your present impatience and disturbance will be utterly forgotten. Can you not, then, anticipate this hour of calmness to yourself; and begin to enjoy the peace which it will certainly bring? If others have behaved improperly, leave them to their own folly, without becoming the victim of their caprice, and punishing yourself on their account.-Patience, in this exercise of it, cannot be too much studied by all who wish their life to flow in a smooth stream. It is the reason of a man, in opposition to the passion of a child. It is the enjoyment of peace, in opposition to uproar and confusion. He that hath no rule over his own spirit, is like a city that is broken down and without walls.The next important exercise of patience is,

II. PATIENCE under disappointments. These will often happen to the best and wisest men; sometimes to the wisest and best-concerted plans. They may happen, too, not through any imprudence of those who have devised the plan, not even through the malice or ill design of others; but merely in consequence of some of those cross incidents of life which could not be foreseen. On such occasions persons of a warm and sanguine temper are presently in a ferment. They had formed their hopes, as they think, upon the justest grounds. They had waited long for success; and borne with many delays. But when their designs are brought to so unexpected an issue; when, without any fault of their own, they find their hopes finally blasted, all patience forsakes them; they no longer possess their souls; the most passionate exclamations break forth. "To whom, except to "them, could such a disappointment have happened? Since the "creation of the world, was such a combination of disastrous "incidents ever beheld? Why are they doomed to be so unfor"tunate beyond all others?"Alas! how unskilfully have you calculated the course of human events! How rashly and presumptuously had you trusted to success! To whom was it ever given, to guard against all the vicissitudes, which the fluctuating fashion of the world, is incessantly bringing about? If one friend, to whom you looked up, has died, or another has lost