his power, to do his bidding and obey his will ? Yea, and again, what were your feelings, when the day dawned after such a night and

you turned your eyes from land to sea, and contemplated the ravages of the hurricane upon the waters of the great deep? And what a sight was there! The loftiest bark and the frailest boat were alike unable to cope with the fury of the storm-there might be seen, the sport and prey of the billows, the wreck of the rich man's hopes and the poor man's all. Death was there also and the gurgling cry of the sinking mariners rose above the storm, as thus, suddenly and unexpectedly, they were hurried from this world into eternity, to stand before their God. But enough of such scenes-the heart of the stoutest sinner must have quailed as they passed before him. May the influence remain-may it be confirmed by God's grace and made an abiding principle of conduct!

But now let us proceed to draw from this awful visitation the several lessons which it is so well calculated to enforce upon us.

Did

1. Let us consider the spirit with which Job bore up against the weight of a similar infliction. he murmur-did he cry out against God when he found himself a childless man, bereaved of all his family "at one fell swoop?" Listen to the Scriptures. As soon as he had heard the tale

of misery, "Job arose, and rent his mantle, and shaved his head, and fell down upon the ground, and worshipped, and said, Naked came I out of my mother's womb, and naked shall I return thither: the Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord." This was a man of a right temper. He neither renounced his God nor doubted His providence when the hand of misery came upon him. He had clung to Him in prosperity, and now he clung more closely to Him in the hour of his adversity. He knew and felt that God was still God, and that as He had cast him down, so, at His good pleasure, He could raise him up. He knew and felt that in the hands of God all things work together for the advantage of His faithful servants, and, therefore, his trust and confidence were unshaken. Darkness was upon him—but he turned from it, with worship and blessing and praise, to that quarter whence alone light could come to dispel and scatter it. And surely there is a lesson in all this for our instruction and, God grant, for our improvement also. We should pray, that in every season of calamity we may catch the spirit of the patriarch, and ever acknowledge that the trials to which God allows us to be subjected are mercifully intended, sent to try our patience, prove our resignation, confirm our faith, establish our love, and wean us

from a world too alluring, too bewitching, too captivating, too enslaving, in spite of all the buffetings of disappointment which it heaps on those who are enchained in the fetters of its bondage. Man is prone to what we may call an idolatry of the heart. One man worships his family-they are his idols: another worships his riches-they are his idols: another ambition-it is his idol: another pleasure— it is his idol. But God "is a jealous God." He will endure no rival in the hearts of his servants, and, therefore, when the idol-temple is built up in their affections, he lets loose His storms upon it, until, rent and riven from the topmost pinnacle to the lowest foundation, the whole fabric sinks to ruin, and God alone remains supreme within the soul. Job was tried that his faith might be established, and it is for the same object that trials come upon men now. Whether God visits us in the fire or the earthquake, in the storm or the calm, in the fury of the tempest or "the still small voice" pleading with our spirits, He has still the same end in view-to guide our souls to everlasting happiness.

2. But, secondly, let us proceed to another lesson which the text inculcates in a most striking manner. We have glanced at the resignation of Job under his trial, as an example for our instruction when the heavy hand of calamity or bereavement may fall But the great lesson to be drawn from

upon us.

it, the peculiar lesson for this day and this occasion, yet remains untouched-I mean the startling and stirring warning which it reads to us, as we contemplate the fate of the patriarch's family when the wind smote the four corners of the house in which they were eating and drinking, and the whole of them perished under the ruins. What does such a fearful scene of desolation say unto us? What language do the poor sufferers in it address to us? Yea, for "being dead, they yet speak," and from their graves comes forth a voice which plainly says, "Be ye also ready; for in such an hour as ye think not the Son of Man cometh." Do you smile incredulously at this warning voice? Do you say within yourselves, you expect not and fear not to die as the children of Job died? But what of that? It does not impair the force or weaken the strength of the admonition in the smallest degree.

If

you do not die exactly in the same way, you will die in some way or other-die you must and die you will, and preparation is equally necessary, in whatever shape the king of terrors may approach you. But, stop, reflect-how many, within one short week, perhaps, thought as you do! They had spent the Sabbath-God grant that they had spent it as His Sabbaths should be spent-but they little imagined that it was their last. The sun had setthey little dreamed that their eyes should never see

it rise again in this world. They had retired to rest, little thinking how long and deep their sleep would be-God grant that, when awakened from it by the coming of the bridegroom, they may be found to have been of the number of the wise whose lamps were ready trimmed for the arrival of their Lord. The storm came-and how many were there overwhelmed by the very fate which cut off the family of Job in the midst of their revelry and enjoyment! The very manner, then, of the death of which the text speaks is not impossible. If God so wills, the experience of the week has proved, that you can neither escape nor avert it. But if not, as I said before, He is not restricted to one way of calling man from this world to the next. He has other ministers of His will who can quench the vital spark of life as suddenly and as effectually as the falling house or the rushing waters. At the height of the recent hurricane, I was myself unhappily a spectator of the loss of the boat by which several persons perished in an instant-but I had already, at an earlier period of the day, seen another, as he walked along the street, stagger, fall, and expire under the sudden stroke of disease, as unexpectedly and instantaneously as any victim of the storm. In either case the summons to eternity was equally suddenin either case the warning to the survivors is equally striking-from either case the voice comes forth,