in all the great events of life, and passes from one man's heart to another's, and is heard with deep marvel, and in silence obeyed.

There is nothing which convinces me more of the fine nature of man, than the undoubted pleasure derived from benevolent actions. It seems to be the right way of living; the aliment that agrees; the system which suits every part of the frame; the action which exactly is made for it. Try this. They are not the mere words of the pulpit, but a plain honest statement of human feelings. If you happen to have gone along with the current of the world, if the only question you ask is, What fresh amusement to-day? what novelty? what is there striking and new? how are my eyes to be dazzled? how are my senses to be gratified? try such sort of scenes as these-try the effects of humanity on your happiness. Look at the astonishment of the poor when they see a gentleman or a lady coming into their room in some alley of this vast city. Who sent him? How did he know about us? How could he find his way to this miserable place? Will he help us? And then the prostration, and the blessings, and the thanks to God, and the prayers, and the ecstasy of happiness, the rush of hope to the heart when the relief is known. I do not know whom I am addressing, but I am sure no man, however rich, or powerful, or famous, has ever tasted of purer, higher, and more lasting pleasure than this. But it is the business and the duty of a preacher to ask his congregation, to ask every individual of his congregation, what they are doing to deserve immortal life. The bee works for the hive, the ant for his winter heap. The Christian, too, must labour for eternal life, and lay up provision for the day of God.

And do not imagine, I pray you, that individual charity will effectually supply the place of our Society. We are always here, some one of our members is always present, for the investigation of cases, and for

the relief of wants; we are accustomed to this species. of benevolence; we have too much experience to allow of any attempts at imposition; we know what is really wanted on such occasions; we have walked long in this path of misery, and have traced it to the very gulf of despair. If the object be not only to give, but to give prudently and discreetly, trust your gift to those, who, combining for noble purposes, have pursued them with successful wisdom.

Great and sudden grief, as may be supposed, produces very different effects in different human beings. A very common effect is stupefaction -an apparent suspension of all the intellectual powers. No tears, nor sighs, nor paroxysms, but a fixed, immovable silent grief, apparently hardly conscious of what has happened; a frightful tranquillity which bids fair to extinguish reason, and by the intensity of the struggle to destroy life. I have always found one cure for this, and have blessed God who has given such goodness. Up rises the poor creature when you talk to her of her children; and with a body wasted by watching on the sick bed of her husband, and with a heart breaking with agony, brings out the meal and the cruse, and divides the scanty morsels unfit for the support of life.

But there is the cheerful picture as well as the gloomy one. These poor women commonly evince the most extreme desire not to be troublesome and dependent upon the funds of the Society. There is no exertion they will not make, no honest industry they do not display, to procure an independent support for themselves and their children. It is not general support that is wanted in this great distress, but support and encouragement for a moment too terrible for the firmest minds. Strength and aid against the sudden incursion of ruin, death, famine, sickness, confusion, and every evil which can be levelled upon an unhappy woman; and if you can be moved by heroism, the heroism I have seen of widowed

women acting and suffering for their children, baffles every description I can attempt to give you. And where is it exercised? and who knows it? In an obscure room in some alley of this immense city. Your virtues are known, and remarked, and rewarded by public approbation. If you make a sacrifice, it is talked of; if you submit to a privation, it is praised; but who thinks of such poor creatures as these? And yet steady to the great interest of her children, for years and years upon bread alone, tasting not the fresh air, seeing not the sun, deeply intent upon her daily labour, the poor woman leads on her children to mature life; and if you saw her, you would bear with her weakness, and reverence the warmth of human affections: the image of him who is gone, is always before her eyes, and his name always upon her lips; and perhaps there is some little memorial she shows you of happy times and days that are gone, and you see that the poor creature is striving to do as she thinks he would have done. Alas, striving with other strength and other skill, and with diminished means, to carry on the unequal war of life; but why tire you with these details? No man here. present, however high his fortunes, can doubt of the real existence of such scenes as these. We talk of human life as a journey a journey it is, but how differently is that journey performed!-there are some who come forth girt, and shod, and mantled, to walk on velvet lawns and smooth terraces, where every gale is arrested, and every beam is tempered; there are others who walk on the alpine paths of life, against driving misery, and through stormy sorrows, and over sharp afflictions walk, with bare feet and naked breast, jaded, mangled, and chilled! To us these scenes of widowed misery are of daily occurrence; and we ask your assistance with a solemn promise that every shilling with which we are intrusted, shall be patiently and affectionately administered in furtherance of this great charity. Many fatherless children look to you, many

widowed women wait for your help: this is their hope for the year; and from the alms of this day the child is to be put out to service, or the room is to be repaired, or the mother is to seek for fresh medical relief. A little happiness is to break into chambers of sorrow, and a little hope to enter into dreary hearts. Join with us in furthering these little prospects of humble happiness, and let us tell them to-morrow that God has touched the hearts of the rich and the great; that we have been heard by those who feel that " Pure religion, and undefiled, before God and the Father, is this, To visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction."

SERMON VII.

ON RELIGIOUS TOLERATION.

COL. iii. 12, 13.

Put on, as the elect of God, kindness, humbleness of mind, meekness, long-suffering, forbearing one another, and forgiving one another.

THE Church of England, in its wisdom and piety, has very properly ordained that a day of thanksgiving should be set apart, in which we may return thanks to Almighty God, for the mercies vouchsafed to this nation in their escape from the dreadful plot planned for the destruction of the Sovereign and his Parliament, the forerunner, no doubt, of such sanguinary scenes as were suited to the manners of that age, and must have proved the inevitable consequence of such enormous wickedness and cruelty. Such an escape is a fair and lawful foundation for national piety. And it is a comely and Christian sight to see the magistrates and high authorities of the land obedient to the ordinances of the Church, and holding forth to their fellow-subjects a wise example of national gratitude and serious devotion. This use of this day is deserving of every commendation. The idea that Almighty God does sometimes exercise a special providence for the preservation of a whole people is justified by Scripture, is not repugnant to reason, and can produce nothing but feelings and opinions favourable to virtue and religion.

Another wise and lawful use of this day is an honest