of your feet, before they wander in a dubious way so at the end of your course you shall be able to gird up your loins, nor shrink back at the rolling waters of Jordan; for they shall soon land you on the opposite side, where all these painful wanderings will be ended; where there shall be no more toilsome days, by which to measure and estimate your work and labour; no setting sun, no evening shade; for there shall be no night there.'

Ask of some bright spirit, traversing those stellar regions, Whither hast thou made a road to day?' Into what district of past providence, into what revelation of future joy? What has been the topic of the anthems of praise-what the subject of your converse with kindred spirits on that splendid hill of brightness? But the reply would be unintelligible; yet I can discern a smiling beckon, saying 'Come up hither.' I come, I come: 'Saviour, keep me to thy kingdom and glory.'

No. XI.

From the end of the earth will I cry unto thee, when my heart is overwhelmed lead me to the rock that is higher than I.

PSALM Ixi, ver. 2.

AH! what apparently interminable lengths of burning sand fatigue the eye, and stretch the dreary prospect all around. Not a shady grove is to be seen, nor a single tree, to afford a momentary shelter: the fierce sunbeams strike on the weary pilgrim's head; and he must sustain the intensity of their heat, or sink under their effulgence, according to the degree of his strength, or his powers of endurance. The land of our pilgrimage, were it a succession of verdant meadows, or did the pathway wind round the deeply browned

wood, we should no longer be travellers in a wilderness; but a wilderness it has been termed by those who have passed through it in all ages.

Yet the wilderness itself has its own appropriate alleviations: the very rocks which contribute to the wildness of its aspect, furnish it also with its cooling shadesso, from the most gloomy appearances and unpromising events, the sweetest solace is sometimes derived; the most appalling providences have been productive of essential benefits; and blessings, little anticipated by the desponding mind, have followed in their rear. Some friend has proffered unexpected assistance, or at least has assuaged the keenness of suffering by a well-timed sympathy; or a sudden termination has been put to calamities, which had appeared boundless and insurmountable. Some latent power shall be called into. activity for the occasion, by him who has the mind under his sovereign controul, and can make it the instrument to accom

plish all his pleasure. Yes, it is refreshing even thus to repose in the cool shade, to experience comparative ease, to feel the invigoration of hope, and to lie quiet for a while, as under the shadow of a rock. With such respites the weary traveller is occasionally indulged, that he may gain renewed vigour for the impending accidents of his journey.

But the true Christian, while grateful to his Divine Benefactor for these alleviations under suffering, cannot be thus satisfied the minds of all the sons and daughters of affliction must flee to a divine refuge, if they would not be utterly consumed in this howling wilderness. The Psalmist, in his distresses, exclaims, Lead me to the rock that is higher than I.' But no earthly resources answer to this character: they are destitute of that in which a mortal can repose unlimited confidence; they are no higher than ourselves; nor have they essentially more power, or longer endurance than ourselves. A rock so small, so low, yields but partial

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shelter; unlike the tall, towering precipice, or the mountain brow, where the shade is deep, effective, and wide spread. Here the way-worn traveller may repose with confidence, and have all his feelings soothed to quietness and rest. Such a rock is the ever blessed God- the rock of ages; that rock was Christ.' Yes, the protection he affords is, in truth, the shadow of a great rock in a weary land; an effective shelter from the storm, and a covert from the tempest, which will never disappoint the hopes of those who take refuge there. Of all the consolations this wilderness has to offer to the deeply afflicted spirit, it may truly be said, ‹ Miserable comforters are ye all.' Neither the dissipations of the world, nor the best efforts of friendship, can heal the heart that is deeply wounded.

But how dreary the prospect of him who, convinced of his danger as an offender against the divine law proclaimed amid the thunders of Sinai, sees no way of escape from threatened destruction !—