suppositions of what calamities might have befallen the deceased, had their lives been prolonged, or what unfavourable characters they might have proved, since it is clear that none of these things were ever designed, any more than that they might have proved comforts to their parents and ornaments to society; -suppositions which would be quite as rational, and much more charitable. But to those who have no better consolations to offer, it may justly be said, " miserable comforters are ye all." Such antidotes for grief are often tried, but never succeed. A bleeding heart is not to be so healed; and he who alone can do it effectually, might say to those who attempt it, "Ye have healed the hurt of the daughter of my people slightly." It is he alone who can administer true consolation to the afflicted, whether he denies children, or takes them away, or chastises us in or through them. His divine supports under painful dispensations "calm the surges of the mind," and afford consolation of the most effectual kind. The assurance "that all things shall work together for good," and that these light afflictions, which are but

for a moment, work out a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory," ever retain their value, however common and familiar they may be to the ear. They are calculated to produce a cheerful acquiescence in the divine will; not, indeed, if such passages are read carelessly and without reflection: it is only when we pause, and endeavour to receive their full meaning, that their efficacy is felt.

But although with what children might have been, a bereaved parent has nothing to do, yet abundant consolation may be derived in many cases from the contemplation of what they now are. Happy spirits!—removed from the parental embrace to repose on the bosom of Jesus, where they can never be assailed by sickness or sorrow, and where they cannot die any more.

The writer will here take the liberty to recommend a little volume, entitled, "The Mourner," by Dr. Grosvenor, admirably adapted to such occasions. May the bereaved and broken-hearted, and disappointed, experience the truth of that promise which says,

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Though He hath torn, He will also heal!"

CHAP. XIII.

THE ORPHAN.

"When my father and my mother forsake me, then

the Lord will take me up.

PSALM, XXVI. 10.

YOUNG persons, living in ease and affluence in their father's house, do not always calculate for the future; but are disposed to think that" to-morrow shall be as this day, and much more abundant." It has, perhaps, never occurred to some, by what a precarious tenure they hold their present enjoyments; that they may be essentially curtailed, if not totally annihilated by the death of their parents; that on the fleeting breath in their nostrils, depend those appearances on which they so greatly value themselves; that by this alone their gay families may be preserved from a state of poverty or dependance. But even

where this is not the case, such a mournful event generally throws the younger branches of a family in a greater or a less degree on the care and benevolence of others. A more habitual sense of our precarious enjoyment of earthly friends would produce very salutary effects on the conduct and character of young persons, who, satisfied with present competence and security, have not learned to calculate on a sudden reverse of circumstances, when they may be obliged for advice and protection, perhaps even support, to those whom they now view with indifference, if not disdain; or when they may meet with disinterested and needful friendship, from quarters where their present conduct cannot at all entitle them to expect it. Common policy (not to mention higher principles) would suggest these sentiments, as we cannot tell whose services we may need. It is "the prudent who foresee the evil, while the simple pass on and are punished."

The vicissitudes of human life are such, that it is wise to be prepared for all changes; and the young, while secure and happy beneath the parental roof, should be careful by

an amiable and conciliating conduct to engage the good will and esteem of all around: that is a prudent resolution, which the young reader has perhaps been taught to adopt.

Though I'm now in younger days,

Nor can tell what shall befall me,

I'll prepare for every place

Where my growing age shall call me.”

The death of parents is certainly the severest calamity with which either infancy, or childhood, or youth, can be visited having no claim on new guardians or protectors equal to that of natural affection, the orphan who has found such protectors should not be wanting in a grateful sense and expression of the obligation; especially should a sentiment of fervent gratitude be kindled towards that Being, who, having the hearts of all at His disposal, raises up friends for the destitute, and "setteth the solitary in families." But should He in His wisdom have seen fit to withhold for the present all human aid, and seemed to have cast them on the mercy of a cold world, " His tender mercies are over all His works," and the orphan is the object of