are none, having a surviving parent duly sensible of his loss who may not adopt the latter. Their utmost assiduities, although unable to heal such a wound, may do much towards mitigating the smart. To whom can parents look for comfort when thus bereaved, with such reasonable expectation as to their own offspring? On whom have they such imperious claims? If children did but consult their own interests, they would by their attentive and affectionate conduct often prevent the necessity for second marriages, and parents would not be forced to solicit happiness from strangers, because it cannot be found in the bosom of their own families!

CHAP. XII.

TO CHILDLESS PERSONS.

"What wilt thou give me, seeing I go childless."

GENESIS, XV. 2.

ALTHOUGH the preceding pages have been exclusively addressed to parents and children, a few words to those who stand in neither of those relations, it is hoped will not be deemed so unpardonable a digression, as to be altogether unacceptable.

There are those who have had years of married life embittered, because it has pleased Providence to withhold from them a family, and who, while they hear others complain of the various trials to which they are thereby exposed, are ready to think that such troubles are not to be compared with their own, "so foolish are we, and ignorant!" So apt to forget that

"the heart knoweth its own bitterness." The hackneyed methods of consolation have probably hitherto been tried in vain n; in vain they hear, that the ill-inclined and vicious, the amiable and deserving, severally excite in the bosoms of parents the deepest sorrow, although on very opposite accounts: the misconduct of the former, the misfortunes of the latter, each rending their hearts and banishing their repose. They hear, that in all their afflictions we are afflicted, and that our anxieties multiply with our children. Let childless persons who repine at their lot, read the heart-rending lamentation of David over a rebellious Absalom, or hear him in bitter anguish supplicating for the life of a dying infant! Let them attend to the pathetic story of Rispah, the daughter of Aiah, who watched night and day the corpses of her slain family, and they will no longer attempt to say that "there is no sorrow like unto their sorrow;' especially if they recollect that to these, or woes equally bitter, every parent is liable. But this is not a view of the subject calculated to afford solid consolation: that can be derived only from an humble submission to

the all-wise disposer of events, who both gives and withholds, in subservience to the best interests of his people. The time is at hand when those who have wives, and husbands, and children, shall be as though they had them not; and then, although you may not literally be entitled to say, "here am I, and the children thou hast given me." You may, nevertheless, bring up a long train to join in the triumph of that day, who may own you as their spiritual parents, as the honoured instruments of their new birth unto God. In such an animating prospect Paul gloried, although he had probably neither sons nor daughters, according to the flesh; and well he might, and well may every zealous promoter of the Gospel of Christ rejoice, for "whoever converts a sinner from the error of his ways, shall shine as the stars in the firmament for ever and ever."

Remember then, my dear reader, that although Providence has withheld from you the pleasures and the cares of a family, as a Christian you may have other pleasures, and should have other cares; your responsibility, although altered in its character, is not di

minished. Should you see the work of the Lord prosper in your hands, happy are you. It is evidently His pleasure, that the talents with which you are intrusted should be directed into a foreign channel. It will be well if you are enabled to co-operate with his wise designs. "He will give you a name better than that of sons and of daughters."

The same all-wise disposer has seen fit to "take away from others the desire of their eyes with a stroke;" to level all their pleasing anticipations with the dust! ere the tender bud had unfolded-or just as it had begun to disclose its varied tints-or when a fullblown flower, the pride of the parterre, and distinguished among the neighbouring plants for fragrance and beauty! To hearts thus lacerated and still bleeding, what healing balm can be applied? what cordial administered, sufficient to revive the drooping spirits? Will it suffice to tell the disconsolate mourners (as some officiously do) that all their grief is unavailing, as it cannot bring back the object of it? This were to mock their woes, and to affront their understandings. Nor is it less vain to form a thousand chimerical