the whole of our condition to the choice of unerring wisdom. May we learn to renounce our own will; and be ready to make a sacrifice of our warmest wishes, whenever they ruu counter to the good pleasure of God. For, indeed, as to obey his laws, is to be perfectly free; so, to resign ourselves to his disposal, is to establish our own happiness, and to be secure from fear of evil.

Here, a small and plain stone is placed upon the ground. Purchased, one would imagine, from the little fund, and formed by the hand, of frugality itself. Nothing costly: not one decoration added only a very short inscription; and that so effaced, as to be scarcely intelligible.-Was the depositary unfaithful to its trust? Or were the letters worn by the frequent resort of the surviv ing family; to mourn over the grave, of a most valuable and beloved relative?-For I perceive, upon a closer inspection, that it covers the remains of a father. A religious father; snatched from his growing offspring, before they were settled in the world, or so much as their principles fixed by a thorough education.

This, sure, is the most complicated distress that has hitherto come under our consideration. The solemnities of such a dying chamber are some of the most melting and melancholy scenes imaginable.-There lies the affectionate husband, the indulgent parent, the faithful friend, and the ge nerous master. He lies in the last extremities, and on the very point of dissolution. Art has done its all. The raging disease mocks the power of medicine. It hastens, with resistless impetuosity, to execute its dreadful errand; to rend asunder the silver cord of life, and the more delicate tye of social attachment, and conjugal affection.

A servant or two, from a revering distance, cast. many a wishful look, and condole their honoured

master in the language of sighs. The condescending mildness of his commands, was wont to produce an alacrity of obedience, and render their service a pleasure. The remembrance of both imbitters their grief, and makes it trickle plentifully down their honest cheeks.-His friends, who have so often shared his joys, and gladdened his mind with their enlivening converse, now are miserable comforters. A sympathizing and mourn ful pity, is all the relief they are able to contribute: unless it be augmented by their silent prayers for the divine succour, and a word of consolation suggested from the Scriptures. Those poor innocents, the children, crowd around the bed; drowned in tears, and almost frantic with grief, they sob out their little souls, and passionately cry; "Will he leave us? Leave us, in a "helpless condition! Leave us, to an injurious "world!"

These separate streams are all united in the distressed spouse, and overwhelm her breast with an impetuous tide of sorrows. In her, the lover weeps; the wife mourns; and all the mother yearns. To her, the loss is beyond measure aggravated, by months and years of delightful society, and exalted friendship.-Where, alas! can she meet with such unsuspected fidelity, or repose such unreserved confidence? Where find so discreet a counsellor; so improving an example; and a guardian so sedulously attentive, to the interests of herself, and her children?-See! how she hangs over the languishing bed; most tenderly solicitous to prolong a life, important and

Texts of scripture, proper for such an occasion; containing promises-of support under affliction, Lam. iii. 32. Heb. xii. 6. 2 Cor. iv. 17.-of pardon, Isai. liii. 5. Isai. i. 18. 1 John ii. 1, 2. Acts x. 43.-of justification, Rom. v. 9. Rom. viii. 33, 34. 2 Cor. v. 21.--of victory over death, Psalm xxiii. 4. Psalm Ixxiii. 26. 1 Cor. xv. 56, 57. -of a happy resurrection, John vi, 40, 9 Cor, v. 1. Rev. vii. 16, 17,

desirable far beyond her own. Or, if that be impracticable, no less tenderly officious to soothe the last agonies of her dearer self.-Her hands, trembling under direful apprehensions, wipe the cold dews from the livid cheeks; and sometimes stay the sinking head on her gentle arms, sometimes rest it on her compassionate bosom.-See! how she gazes, with a speechless ardor, on the pale countenance, and meagre features. Speechless her tongue; but she looks unutterable things. While all her soft passions throb with unavailing fondness, and her very soul bleeds with exquisite anguish.

The sufferer, all patient and adoring, submits to the divine will; and, by submission, becomes superior to his affliction. He is sensibly touched with the disconsolate state of his attendants; and pierced with an anxious concern for his wife and his children. His wife, who will soon be a destitute widow; his children, who will soon be helpless orphans. " Yet, though cast down, not " in despair." He is greatly refreshed, by his trust in the everlasting covenant, and his hope of approaching glory. Religion gives a dignity to distress. At each interval of ease, he comforts his very comforters; and suffers with all the ma. jesty of woe.

The soul, just going to abandon the tottering clay, collects all her force, and exerts her last efforts. The good man raises himself on his pil low; extends a kind band to his servants, which is bathed in tears; takes an affecting farewell of his friends; clasps his wife in a feeble embrace; kisses the dear pledges of their mutual love; and then pours all that remains of life and of strength, in the following words:-"I die, my dear chil"dren: but God, the everlasting God, will be "with you.-Though you lose an earthly parent; 66 you have a Father in Heaven, who lives for evermore. Nothing, nothing but an unbelieving

"heart, and irreligious life, can ever separate you "from the regards of his providence-from the "endearments of his love."

He could proceed no farther. His heart was full; but utterance failed.-After a short pause, with difficulty, great difficulty, he added;" You, "the dear partner of my soul, you are now the "only protector of our orphans.-I leave you un"der a weight of cares.-But God, who defend"eth the cause of the widow-God, whose pro"mise is faithfulness and truth-God hath said, "I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.-This re "vives my drooping spirits-Let this support the "wife of my bosom-And now, O Father of Com"passions, into thy hands I commend my spirit -encouraged by thy promised goodness, I leave "my fatherless”—

Here, he fainted; fell back upon the bed; and lay, for some minutes, bereft of his senses. As a taper, upon the very point of extinction, is sometimes suddenly rekindled, and leaps into a quivering flame; so life, before it totally expired, gave a parting struggle, and once more looked abroad from the opening eye-lids.-He would fain have spoke; fain have uttered the sentence he began. More than once he essayed: but the organs of speech were become like a broken vessel; and nothing but the obstructing phlegm rattled in his throat. His aspect, however, spoke affection inexpressible. With all the father, all the husband, still living in his looks; he takes one more view of those dear children, whom he had often beheld with a parental triumph. He turns his dy. ing eyes on that beloved woman, whom he never beheld but with a glow of delight. Fixed in this posture, amidst smiles of love, and under a gleam of heaven, they shine out their last.

Upon this, the silent sorrow bursts into loud

Heb, xiii, 5.

laments. They weep, and refuse to be comforted. Till some length of time had given vent to the excess of passion; and the consolations of religion had stanched their bleeding woes. Then, the afflicted family search for the sentence, which fell unfinished from those loved, those venerable and pious lips. They find it recorded by the prophet Jeremiah, containing the direction of infinite wisdom, and the promise of unbounded goodness; Leave thy fatherless children; I will preserve them alive; and let thy widows trust in me. This, now, is the comfort of their life, and the joy of their heart. They treasure it up in their memories. It is the best of legacies, and an inexhaustible fund. A fund, which will supply all their wants, by entailing the blessing of heaven, on all their honest labours.-They are rich; they are happy; in this sacred pledge of the divine favour. They fear no evil; they want no good; because God is their portion, and their guardian God.

No sooner turned from one memento of my own, and memorial of another's decease; but a second, a third, a long succession of these me lancholy monitors, croud upon my sight t.-That which has fixed my observation, is one of a more grave and sable aspect than the former. I suppose it preserves the relics of a more aged person. One would conjecture, that he made somewhat of a figure in his station among the living; as his monument does among the funeral marbles. Let me draw near, and inquire of the stone;

Who, or what, is beneath its surface?"-I am informed, he was once the owner of a considerable estate; which was much improved by his own application and management: that he left the

Jerem. xlix. 11.

- Plurima mortis imago.

Tirg