mortality had been overcast, once more became bright with intelligence-when the voice, whose sounds had been hushed in death, once more gladdened a parent's ear; and when the fond mother pressed to her throbbing heart the faded but reviving form, of her beloved child, her son, her only son?

It remains for us to consider in what respects this instance of the compassion of Jesus may be rendered profitable or consolatory to us.

Examples are daily occurring, of the youthful and vigorous, as well as of the aged and infirm, falling beneath the power of death. In this, as in other respects, the ways of divine providence are often, to our view, dark and mysterious. Yet we may be led to believe, that in this manner, parents. are sometimes mercifully chastened, for allowing their thoughts to be too much engrossed even by these dear objects of their affection. And gradually to wean them from a world which they must shortly leave; and to awaken them to duties which they may have neglected or forgotten; the hand of God has interposed; and to save, and to bless the parents, has removed the child. Perhaps the afflictive dispensation may have been the means of saving the child from many a trial, and many a suffering-that in this manner, an innocent and happy spirit has been called away, ere it had known of the sins, or felt the sorrows of this world. These, and various other purposes unknown to us, may be served by the divine procedure, which thus sees fit unexpectedly to blast the hopes of many a fond and anxious parent.

Yet is the trial most severe; and demands all the aid which reason and religion can supply, to support man

beneath its pressure. They alone who have been called on, in the dread visitations of a mysterious providence, to watch over the dying bed of a much loved child, can enter into, or feel the bitterness of such a sorrow. Day, succeeding day, finds the anxious parents treading with noiseless step, but agitated feelings, the chamber of sickness; or bending over the couch of the dear sufferer, in speechless anxiety; eager from a look, or a sound, to catch the least hope; whilst life and death seem to hang on a balance that the slightest breath could move. Their hearts, for a moment uplifted by a temporary alleviation of pain, cherishes the thought that the fatal crisis is past but are, ere long, destined again to be agonized, by marking the return of unmitigated disease. Sincere and fervent are their prayers to a throne of grace, that a merciful Being may yet spare to them their child-" that if it be possible this cup of affliction may pass from them." But alas! it is otherwise determined, and the last hour approaches. The pangs of an incurable disease in some measure reconcile them to the issue; and the selfish feeling which prompts them to wish that life may be prolonged, is at last overcome by a desire that the poor sufferer may be finally released. The struggle is over-and in all the stupor of grief, mingled with thankfulness that mortal sufferings are ended, they behold the dear object of their warmest love now composed, in the dread calm, and serenity of death. Then follow the sad rites consequent on this mournful event; and the excitement which is thus caused, and the endeavor to summon up that composure which reason and religion demand, give a temporary energy, which could not have been antici

pated. For as a wound is never so painful, when recently inflicted, as at a later time, so the feelings have been so overpowered, and subdued, that the bewildered mind is still in a dream: and all the sad events that have so lately occurred, pass before it in shadowy indistinctness. And it is only when he hears the hollow sound of the earth, as it falls upon the coffin; and when he takes the last lingering look; and when the grave has been finally closed over the child whom he loved, that the bereaved father is awakened to a sense of his desolation.

And when these sad services are over, and he returns to what is now a home of sorrow, a thousand circumstances remind him of the loss he has suffered. He meets the partner of his life, the sharer of his affliction, the mother of his buried child; whilst sigh responds to sigh, and their tears are mingled in the communion of grief. Forgetting for a moment all that has passed, he unconsciously looks around him for one, who, with a joyous heart, used to welcome his coming-but alas! no light footstep is heard. One place is now seen unoccupied at the social table; and the hearth, late so cheerful, now shews one melancholy blank. He asks himself, is it indeed true that he shall behold his child no more upon this earth-no more hear that voice which was wont to gladden him-no more see that happy countenance, which used to make him forget all the cares and troubles of the world? Again, a temporary oblivion succeeds. He starts, as the moaning of the wind recals the low complaining of his poor sufferer: and he listens, almost expecting to hear those sounds, that are now hushed for ever in the stillness of the

grave. Whilst other eyes are closed in sleep, the bereaved parents wake only to sorrow-endeavoring to conceal from each other the intensity of grief; or dwelling, with mournful satisfaction, on the virtues of the departed, and the sad loss which they have mutually sustained.

Let me conduct such mourners, and many such there are, to that benevolent Being who came into the world to strengthen the feeble, and to comfort the afflicted. His bodily presence is indeed withdrawn, and this earth shall no more be blessed with his sainted steps. But his spirit breathes around us in that religion which he has left for our support, and guidance; and his promises, on which we rely with unhesitating faith, come with living power, to cheer the disconsolate bosom.

To virtuous parents, who grieve for the loss of a good and beloved child, Jesus, the Son of God, still says, in the language of comfort, "Weep not." It is not his command that, with stoical pride, we should brush away the tear as it gathers in the eye, when we bend in sorrow over an early, an untimely grave. For he well knew that this is the natural tribute which affection pays, when those whom we loved have been thus called away and he himself wept at the grave of Lazarus his friend. But Jesus commands such not to yield to despondency-"not to sorrow like those who have no hope." If the child for whom they lament, was taken from them at a very early period, why should they mourn that it has so soon been called away from mortal trial; and unsullied by the defilements of life, a stranger to its sorrows, been fitted for its kindred skies? Or if the time of infancy had been passed, and

youth had succeeded, with promise of a rich harvest of goodness, in mature years-if a being endowed with the kindliest affections; delighting to do good; rejoicing in the welfare of others; loving and beloved; innocent and happy, has been removed, why should they, with selfish feeling, repine, when they must know, that the child of their affections has been saved from many a troubled hour-released from mortal suffering-and that heaven, in mercy, and in holy recompense of virtue, has granted an early grave?

Besides, the separation of virtuous hearts caused by "I am,' the power of death, is of short continuance. said Jesus," the resurrection and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live; and whosoever liveth and believeth in me, shall never die." The voice of him who, in the days of his flesh, said unto the widowed mother, "Weep not," shall yet break in on the deep slumbers of the grave, recalling the lamented dead to life. The scriptures, too, seem to warrant the belief, to which the heart fondly clings, that we shall recognize each other in that purer, happier world. When Jesus was comforting his disciples in the prospect of his death, which he had foretold, he said, "Let not your heart be troubled; ye believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father's house are many mansions: if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you unto myself; that where I am, there ye may be also." Thus evidently implying the renewal of that friendly. intercourse, which was about to suffer an interruption by his approaching death. The same idea is conveyed