Let us give up our own will to the will of our Maker and Governor, carefully suppressing all solicitude about what may befal us in this imperfect state, and never eagerly wish to enjoy anything which Providence is pleased to deny us, or to be exempted from those trials which are allotted to us, for the promotion of our best interests. Let us bid welcome to all events; even to disappointment, to disease, and to death itself, since Jehovah reigns, and his wisdom and mercy preside everywhere, and rule over all.

The scripture abundantly confirms this pious and consoling sentiment. It assures us, that every thing, however minute or casual, is providential. It tells us "that a sparrow falls not to the ground without our Heavenly Father; and that the very hairs of our head are all numbered." It asks, "Is there an evil in the city, and the Lord hath not done it ?" It represents Jehovah as saying, "I create peace, and I make trouble. I wound, and I heal; I kill, and I make alive."

And how delightful is it to observe a spirit of cheerful submission to the will of God, displayed in the lives of Christians. There was a good woman, who, when she was ill, being asked whether she was willing to live or to die, answered, "Which God pleaseth." But said one

who stood by, "If God should refer it to you, which would you choose ?" "Truly," said she, "if God should refer it to me, I would refer it to him again."

"I see God will have all my heart, and he shall have it," was a fine saying, uttered by a lady when news was brought of two children drowned, whom she loved very much.

The late Dr. Olinthus Gregory of Woolwich, related the following anecdote at a meeting of the Bible Society, and it is an instance of the support which christianity can administer under one of the severest forms of human endurance

"More than twelve months ago, I went, pursuant to the request of a poor, but benevolenthearted woman, in my neighbourhood, to visit an indigent man deeply afflicted. On entering the cottage, I found him alone, his wife having gone to procure him milk from a kind neighbour. I was startled by the sight of a pale, emaciated man, a living image of death, fastened upright in his chair by a rude mechanism of cords and belts hanging from the ceiling. He was totally unable to move either hand or foot, having for more than four years been entirely deprived of the use of his limbs, yet the whole time suffering extreme anguish from swellings at all his joints. As soon as I had recovered a little from my surprise at seeing so pitiable an

object, I asked, "Are you left alone, my friend, in this deplorable situation ?" "No, sir," replied he, in a touchingly feeble tone of mild resignation (nothing but his lips and eyes moving while he spake), "I am not alone." I soon discovered the secret of his striking declaration; for his wife had left on his knees, propped with a cushion formed for the purpose, a Bible, lying open at a favourite portion of the Psalms of David! I sat down by him, and conversed with him. On ascertaining that he had but a small weekly allowance certain, I enquired how the remainder of his wants were supplied? "Why, sir," said he, "'tis true, as you say, seven shillings a-week would never support us; but when it is gone, I rely upon the promise I find in this book: 'Bread shall be given him, and his water shall be sure;' and I have never been disappointed yet; and, so long as God is faithful to his word, I never shall." I asked him, if he ever felt tempted to repine under the pressure of so long-continued and heavy a calamity. "Not for the last three years," said he, "blessed be God for it;" the eye of faith sparkling, and giving life to the pallid countenance while he made the declaration; "for I have learned from this book in whom to believe; and, though I am aware of my weakness and unworthiness, I am persuaded that He will not leave me, nor

forsake me.' And so it is, that often, when my lips are closed with locked jaw, and I cannot speak to the glory of God, he enables me to sing his praises in my heart." This, and much more, did I hear during my first visit. And in my subsequent visits (for I am not ashamed to say that often, for my own benefit, have I been to the cottage of this afflicted man), I generally found him with his Bible on his knees, and uniformly witnessed like resignation flowing from the blessing of God upon the constant perusal of his holy word. He died with "a hope full of immortality," and is now gone to the "rest which remaineth for the people of God." And gladly would I sink into the obscurity of the same cottage, gladly even would I languish in the same chair, could I but enjoy the same uninterrupted communion with God, be always filled with the same "strong consolations," and constantly behold, with equally vivid perception, the same celestial crown sparkling before

me."

This is the proper view we should take of our afflictions. We are imperfect judges of our own welfare, and not able to see how certain events can ever befriend us; but, says the Apostle, "We know that all things work together for good to them that love God." And again; "Whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth,

and scourgeth every son whom he receiveth." These things are the result of divine goodness. They are the discipline of a father. They are the prunings of a husbandman. They are the ploughing of the fallow-ground, to prepare it for the reception of the seed. They are the refinings of the furnace, that when we are tried we may come forth as gold.

When all thy mercies, O my God,
My rising soul surveys;
Transported with the view, I'm lost
In wonder, love, and praise.

O how shall words with equal warmth
The gratitude declare,

That glows within my ravish'd heart?
But thou canst read it there.

Thy providence my life sustain'd,
And all my wants redrest,
When in the silent womb I lay,
And hung upon the breast.

To all my weak complaints and cries,
Thy mercy lent an ear,

Ere yet my feeble thoughts had learnt

To form themselves in prayer.