the tree be lopped off, but the stock itself must be cut-and cut nearly through,—before it can become extensively fruitful. And sometimes the finer the tree, and the more luxuriant its growth, the deeper must be the incision."*

Nor is affliction without its benefit in preventing sin. We never know how near we are to danger. We are like blind men wandering near the edge of a precipice, the mouth of a well, or the margin of a deep pit; and then God by a severe wrench, it may be, and a violent jerk that puts us to some pain, and gives us a severe shock, plucks us from the ruin that we saw not. Oh what hair-breath escapes from destruction, effected perhaps by some distressing visitation, shall we in eternity be made to understand, we experienced on earth. We now often stand amazed at some sore trial; we cannot conjecture why it was sent; we see no purpose it was to serve, no end it was to accomplish,-but there was an omniscient eye that saw what we did not, and could not see, and he sent forth this event to pluck our feet from the net which had been spread for them. How we shall adore God in heaven for these preventing mercies, that came in the form of some dark and aexplicable event, which filled us at the time with lamentation and woe! Oh woman, even thy hus

"Sympathy," p. 154, by the Rev. JOHN BRUCE, Minister of the Necropolis, Liverpool. This is a tender and inestimable volume for the afflicted in general, and especially for those who have suffered the loss of friends.

band's grave, was to prevent perhaps a calamity still deeper and heavier than his death.

Affliction tends to exercise, improve and quicken our graces. In the present state these are all imperfect, and our conformity to the divine purity is only like the resemblance of the sun in a watery cloud, our imperfections envelope and obscure our excellencies wherefore God sends the stormy wind of his providential and painful visitations, to sweep away the clouds and cause the hidden luminary to shine forthHow is faith tried, revealed and strengthened by tribulation! Abraham had not known the strength of his faith, had he not been called to sacrifice Isaac; nor Peter his, had he not been called by Christ to tread the waves. How many have gone with a weak and faltering belief to the river-side, and yet when there, have had their confidence in God so strengthened, that they plunged into the flood, and have emerged, wondering at the grace which carried them in safety through. Resignation has kept pace with their call for it. There are some graces, which, like the stars, can be seen only in the dark, and this is one of them. As they came to the trial, these afflicted ones saw that their only hope was in submission, and they sent one piercing cry to heaven, "Lord, save or I perish. Help me to bow down with unresisting acquiescence." It was given them; and they kissed the rod, exclaiming, "Even so, Father, for so it,seemeth good in thy sight." Their trust and confidence have equalled their faith and

submission. At one time they trembled at the shaking of a leaf; to their surprise they now find they can brave storms, or face lions: then it did not seem as if they could trust God for any thing, now they can confide every thing to him. They have been taught lessons of affiance, which in seasons of unmolested ease, seemed as much beyond their comprehension as their attainment. "Tribulation work

eth patience," and if it does not accomplish this in perfection, it produces it in large measures. Oh what a blessing is patience. It is beautifully said by Bishop Hopkins, "If God confirms and augments thy patience under sufferings, sufferings are mercies; afflictions are favours. He blesseth thee by chastisements, and crow..eth thee with glory, even while he seems to crown thee with thorns. A perfect patience stoops to the heaviest burdens, and carries them as long as God shall please, without murmuring and repining; and if that be to the grave, it knows that what is now a load, shall then be found to be a treasure, A christian doth but carry his own wealth, his crown, and his sceptre; which though here they De burdensome, shall hereafter be eternally glorious."

The following is an extract from a letter of Oberlin to a lady who had suffered many bereave

ments.

"I have before me two stones, which are in imitation of precious stones. They are both perfectly alike in colour, they are both of the same water,—

clear, pure, and clean: yet there is a marked difference between them, as to their lustre and brilliancy. One has a dazzling brightness, while the other is dull, so that the eye passes over it, and derives no pleasure from the sight. What can the reason of this difference be? It is this; the one is cut but in few facets; the other has ten times as many. These facets are produced by a very violent operation. It is requisite to cut, to smooth, and polish. Had these stones been endued with life, so as to have been capable of feeling what they underwent, the one which has received eighty facets would have thought itself very unhappy, and would have envied the fate of the other, which, having received but eight, has undergone but a tenth part of its sufferings. Nevertheless, the operations being over, it is done for ever: the difference between the two stones always remains strongly marked. That which has suffered but little, is entirely eclipsed by the other, which alone is held in estimation, and attracts attention. May not this serve to explain the saying of our Saviour, whose words always bear some reference to eternity: 'Plessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted,'-blessed whether we contemplate them apart, or in comparison with those who have not passed through so many trials. O that we were always able to cast ourselves into his arms, like little children,-to draw near him like helpless lambs,-and ever to ask of him patience, resignation, an entire surrender to his will, faith, trust, and a heartfelt obedience to the commands

which he gives to those who are willing to be his disciples! The Lord God will wipe away tears from off all faces.""

How does affliction tend to wean us from the world, and to fix our affections on things above. We are all too worldly. We gravitate too much to earth. We have not attained to that conquest of the world by faith, which is our duty to seek, and would be our privilege to obtain. Our feet stick in the mire, and we do not soar aloft on the wings of faith and hope into the regions above us, as we ought. We are as moles, when we should be as eagles: mere earthly men, when we should be as the angels of God. With such a revelation as we possess of the eternal world; with such a rent as is made in the clouds of mortality by the discoveries of the New Testament and such a vista as is opened into the realms of immortality, how easy a thing ought it to be, to overcome the world. With the holy mount so near, and so accessible to our faith, how is it that we grovel as we do here? How is it that heaven is opening to present its sights to our eyes, and its sounds to our ears, and that we will neither look at the one, nor listen to the other? "A christian ought to be," says Lady Powerscourt, "Not one who looks up from earth to heaven, but one who looks down from heaven to earth." Yet the multitude do neither. Instead of dwelling in heaven, they do not visit it instead of abiding in it, in the state of their affec tions, they do not look at it Hence the need, and