passes in a house of mourning where the Lord's name is not sought for? People go to pay what is called a visit of condolence, a long string of virtues is recorded as having belonged to the deceased-every one repeats to his deluded friends, that he must be happy, whatever may have been his principles, or his life: that he deserved heaven: or, if it be allowed that he had any weaknesses, they rely upon some vague idea of the goodness of God, never considering either his justice or his holiness. Should there be no stain upon his name, his family are told to be proud of his memory-then they add, that it is necessary to submit to what cannot be avoided. It is the course of nature, we are all mortal; there is another and a better world. These and such trifles as these, are repeated over and over, and perhaps a few tears may be shed. Such are the consolers and the consolations of this wretched world. "Give place," ye sorry comforters, or if you really sympathise in my grief speak to me candidly of the intentions of the Almighty in sending me these afflictions-tell me how I should humble myself under his dispensations, he afflicts me in order to correct me-speak to me of my Saviour who died that he might conquer death, and sin, the cause of death-speak to me of the oblation he offered that he might obtain for me pardon and grace-speak to me of the inv'tations of his love, and of "the new heavens and the new earth wherein dwelleth righteousness." Give me one of his promises, and could I be so blessed as to apply it to.

* 2 Peter,, iii. 13,.

myself, and to the dear departed, I shall indeed be comforted; and should I still water his grave with my tears it will not be like one who "* sorrows not even as others which have no hope." But if you cannot speak thus, you may still shew the pity you feel for me by praying for your friend: ask of God to sanctify to my eternal benefit, the trial with which he afflicts me, to grant that I may bow my head with submission, and my heart with adoration under the strokes of his chastisements, which are so many lessons of grace-pray to him to apply to my heart, by the power of his Holy Spirit, the ineffable consolations of his word, and if then you should only remain near me, I feel as if even your silence would comfort me. It is the Christian alone who can, by principles and manner, shew that delicacy of feeling that acts as a balm to the soul, and comforts by a word or a look, though it might be even a silent one.

However, Jesus drew nigh unto Bethany-let us follow him, and see the powerful effect of his presence upon the afflicted sisters. Then Martha when she heard that Jesus was coming, went and met him, but Mary sat still in the house. Here again we see the sisters acting consistently with the difference of their dispositions, each of them ardently desired the consolations of their divine friend, but while the active Martha gives way to the first warm impulse of her heart, and flies to meet Jesus-Mary (though feeling even more deeply the need of his presence)

* 1 Thess, iv. 13.

appears tive mind.

overwhelmed with the sorrows of her sensiShe seemed to wait till Jesus came to lift, with a merciful hand, the heavy cross which weighed her down. If we study mankind, we must perceive the different shades of feelings and conduct, in their religious character, though they may have one faith, one love, and one hope in common; and the details of this story, so minutely characteristic and recorded by an eye witness, under the guidance of that spirit "that searchest all hearts" would furnish us (were it wanting) with a powerful testimony of its truth.

Leaving Mary in silent grief, waiting for the consolation of her Saviour, let us follow Martha who hastened to meet him, "as the thirsty deer flieth to the water brooks." She threw herself at his feet-she knew that he alone could heal the sorrows of her heart she had expected him four days, she now beheld him. "Jesus was there." When Jesus was actually present to her sight, her drooping faith revived, and a faint ray of hope darted through her. The Jews, who had come from Jerusalem to weep with her, were quite unheeded. She left them to throw herself at the feet of Jesus, and there gave way to the ardent desire she felt of imparting her sorrows to him. Certain of finding pity and sympathy, she laid down her burden, saying, "Lord, if thou hadst been here, my brother had not died," there was grief, amounting almost to despair, expressed in these words. She could then only think of the death of

her dear brother-it appeared as if Jesus had come too late to assist her; there was, however, a small remnant of faith that kindled and revived at the sight of him. She thought that had Jesus been there he could have cured her brother, deprived death of its prey, and the grave of its victory. As a plant which is beat down and crushed by the storm, insensibly revives under the genial influence of the rays of the sun, so did a little germ of faith, quietly vegetating in Martha's bosom, shoot up and blossom, at the kind but majestic aspect of the Saviour. She stood before the High Priest who could "* be touched with the feeling of our infirmities." At every look at her Redeemer her faith seemed strengthened-her hopes revived the darkness of her mind seemed dissipating, and unspeakable comfort was gradually taking its place. She felt that Jesus came to succour her, and that his infinite love and boundless power could grant all her supplications. With confiding love she exclaims, "But I know that even now whatsoever thou wilt ask of God, God will give it thee." What triumphant faith! How soon did the presence of the Saviour bring peace and joy to her afflicted mind! She had looked to him with faith, and there is but one step from faith to peace and joy; the first fruit of faith is that peace of God which passeth all understanding." Those among you that are disciples of Jesus, and feel that he is present with you, need never utter that painful cry, "Lord, hadst thou been

here." You know he is always near you, and always ready to listen to you. Why then should not your faith be as strong as Martha's? Why cannot you resign yourself wholly as she did to the love of Jesus? Why is your heart disquieted within you? O! does not this proceed from a want of faith? Instead of going forth, as Martha did from her sorry comforters, to meet Jesus, whose presence was to her "* a fullness of joy," you seek comfort from Man, who can give you none; instead of drawing refreshing draughts for your soul from the fountains of living waters, you either " thew out cisterns, broken cisterns, that can hold no waters," or else you abandon yourself to despair;instead of relying on the promise of God as Martha did, when she said to Jesus "But now (yes, even now, when all seems lost, and even my fondest hopes are vanished,) whatsoever thou shalt ask of God, God shall give it thee," instead of acting thus do you not open your Bible with misgivings, as if it were not the word of God, and as if the invitations of that word were not addressed to you? Then, again, if you kneel down to pray in a full sense of your unworthiness, do you not address yourself to Jesus as if he were not " able to save them to the uttermost that come unto God by him:"-as if he had not given you "§ an inheritance incorruptible and undefiled, and that fadeth not away, reserved in Heaven for you:" as if his arm were shortened that he could not save, or as if his love were not sufficient

66

Psalm xvi. 11, Jer. ii, 15. Hebrews vii. 25. § 1 Peter i. 4.