out my hand to seize riches, they fly away; I open my arms to embrace my child, he is gone; I have exhausted the cup of life, there remains but bitter dregs. All my property, all my friends, all that I loved, abandons me. O, my God and Father! the reason is, thou wishest to draw me to thyself: thou snatchest away perishable good, because thou wishest to secure for me permanent good; thou disappointest my affections, that I may direct them on him who will never deceive; thou takest its brightness from the splendor of the world; thou renderest its pleasures tasteless; thou causest me to find pain in what constituted my happiness. Ah! the reason is, thou wishest to turn my view toward those happy shores; to seek, to covet, to lay hold on that life, in which are found real joys, supreme beauty, true riches; thou callest me from the heavens; thou encouragest me to take my flight to those happy mansions, to follow those whom my heart loves. I hear thy voice, tender Father; I yield to thy invitations;

I desire to depart hence and be with Christ.

Thus, then, those afflictions which we dreaded, and of which we complained, may produce the most happy consequences. Yes, "it is good for us to be afflicted." If we lived always in prosperity, we should never enter into our own breasts, and should therefore remain ignorant of our sins; inordinate pride would inflate our hearts; we should be so attached to the earth and its miserable pleasures, as to desire never to quit them. But adversity awakens our soul by its salutary shocks; it dissipates that charm which embellishes, in our eyes, the deformity of our conduct; it prostrates our pride, and detaches us from the false good of this world, to make us aspire to that which is unalloyed with pain, and which will be unlimited in duration. The remedy is bitter, the operation is painful, but it is necessary for our salvation. "Chastisement," says Paul, "is for the present not joyous, but grievous; nevertheless, it yieldeth the peaceable fruit

of righteousness to them who are exercised thereby." A child weeps, rebels, because his father subjects him to a severe discipline, and makes him undergo the toil of study he does not foresee the advantages which will subsequently accrue to him. We, in the same way, dread afflictions, weep, rebel, despair, when God makes them our portion. Why? We do not know all the good that they are fitted to communicate; we do not know how many evils they cause us to avoid, how much happiness they will produce. But a day is coming when we shall know it, when we shall congratulate ourselves on our exposure to sorrow, when we shall bless our Heavenly Father for the way in which he led us to himself. As a traveller, arrived at his beloved home, feels a pleasure in retracing in his mind and recounting in his family the woes he has felt, the dangers he has run, the mischances he has experienced, so we, arrived in our heavenly country, shall contemplate with ravishment all the pains

we underwent on the journey of life; shall dwell with satisfaction on the crosses we have found; be filled with surprise in discovering the wise designs of Providence in our afflictions, and the numberless benefits, which have resulted from them. We, who know and feel the truth of these assertions, will never tire in blessing our Father, in adoring him for all he has done for us; especially for those trials which, in spite of our tears, our cries, our murmurs, he has caused us to experience.

O tender Father, who ceasest not to be occupied with our happiness, and who, by ways to us unknown, conductest us to a felicity far above all our thoughts; pardon the doubts, the complaints, that we sometimes allow to escape from our lips against thy wise and benignant dispensations. Thou knowest we are feeble and ignorant. Our ways are not thy ways, we acknowledge at this holy hour. And forever do we abjure our murmurs, lay aside our distrust, place ourselves under

thy guidance. Whatever thou decidest, we will submit, adore, and have no other care but to please thee, by observing thy holy will.

THE MOURNER COMFORTED.

"Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall find Comfort and joy!" Though flesh and blood rebel 'Gainst heaven-ward thoughts, and the vext spirit

swell

With anxious tossings, still, the veil behind
Of earth-born mists, the faith-directed mind

Sees throned in cloudless light the INVISIBLE,
At whose right hand delights in fullness dwell,
And bliss forever lasting. Be resigned,
Thou child of sorrow, to his sovereign will;

Drink, as he bids, the bitter cup, and bear
Thy cross in patience! From the holy hill
A gleam shall cheer thee, till, safe-harbored there
Thou feel how faintly earth's severest ill

May with the weight of heavenly joys compare.