such consolations! You have lost a child: but, blessed be God, you have not lost an Absalom-not a child snatched from you with rebellion in his heart and impious arms in his hands; but a child affectionate and good, whose dying bed has been tended and soothed by maternal affection, and who is now lamented for the loss of early virtue, not from any apprehension about his future happiness. Whilst, therefore, we shed the tear of a reasonable regret, let us be thankful to God, that religion does not call forth the bitter tears of an awful despair. The desire of our eyes is taken from us: let us rejoice that there is no darkness, nor shadow of death, which can take from the eye of faith those visions of future glory, which reconcile the heart to all the dispensations of Heaven, and to all the troubles of our weary pilgrimage. If the young have escaped from these troubles before us, why should we envy them this happy preference? They are with Christ. Let us follow them in faith, desire, and expectation. Let the experience of disappointed fondness teach us to moderate even our innocent attachments; tachments; and let every attachment be kept subordinate to that duty which we owe to God, and that preparation for heaven which we owe to ourselves. As children, let us cherish filial love: it is the best image of piety, and the first step to the practice of all the social virtues. Let us think of our latter end; it is probably very near. Are we endeavouring so to live that it may be peaceful and happy? that we may leave among our friends no regrets of which virtue needs to be ashamed; no grief but that, which nature prompts, and which religion may approve? As parents, let us bring up our children in the nurture and admonition of the Lord: then, if they live, they will live with usefulness and reputation; and if they die, we shall be comforted with the assurance, that they sleep in Christ, and will appear among those, whom Christ shall bring with him to the mansions of eternal rest. O what veneration, what gratitude do we owe to Him, who by dying himself has given us a glorious hope in the death of those, to whom the heart still clings with so much fondness!-to Him who has proclaimed 0 2 claimed in animating strains, "I am the resurrection and the life; he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live." Possessing that assurance of immortality, which he hath established on the firm foundation of his own resurrection, let us be patient in tribulation, and rejoice in hope. Let us deposit our cares and our griefs at the foot of his cross, resting in confidence, that whilst he is our friend no real evil can befal us, and that he will make all things work together for our final good. "For I am persuaded that neither death nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor things present, nor things to come, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus." Let us comfort one another with these words; and may the God of hope fill us with all peace and joy in believing, and preserve us blameless and without rebuke to the coming of our Lord. Amen. SERMON 197 SERMON Vill. ON MATERNAL AFFECTION AS THE MOST APPROPRIATE IMAGE OF DIVINE BE- Isaiah xlix. 14, 15. But Zion said, The Lord hath forsaken me, and my Lord hath forgotten me. Can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should not have compassion on the son of her womb? Yea, they may forget, yet will I not forget thee. WE E find, in the sacred writers, no attempt to magnify their subject, by the arts or ornaments of a studied eloquence. The distinctive character of their style and manner, is simplicity. But it is a simplicity, always beautiful, often sublime, yet oftener tender and affecting. In truth, no book extant abounds so much as the Bible, with those genuine touches of nature, which find their way directly directly to the heart and if ever it rises above itself, it is in speaking of the divine perfections. There is, indeed, no theme, on which inspiration dwells with so much complacency, as on that love and compassion with which the Father of mercies regards his rational offspring. On this theme it pours forth strains, compared with which, the finest effusions of heathen poetry are cold and uninteresting. Innumerable passages might be quoted, in proof of this remark. Two have always appeared to me peculiarly striking. Was ever definition framed, more concise, more descriptive, more philosophically just, than that of John, "God is love?" And how happily is this sentiment amplified and illustrated in the language of the text! a language, which for simplicity and tenderness united, has no parallel. The prophet, after having described the restoration of Israel, and the happiness of gospel times, calls upon the heavens and the earth to break out into singing, in the contemplation of that glorious æra. Then, by a rapid transition, he introduces Zion in despair amidst the evils of captivity: "But Zion said, The Lord |