gelists describe our Lord's devotion in the garden of Gethsemane, the evening preceding his death, are the strongest terms that could be used. As soon as he came to the place, he bid his disciples pray: When he was at the place, he said unto them, "Pray that ye enter not into temptation." This did not content him: this was not enough for the state and sufferings of his mind. He parted even from them. He withdrew about a stone's cast, and kneeled down. Hear how his struggle in prayer is described. Three times he came to his disciples, and returned again to prayer; thrice he kneeled down, at a distance from them, repeating the same words. Being in an agony, he prayed more earnestly: drops of sweat fell from his body, as if it had been great drops of blood; yet in all this, throughout the whole scene, the constant conclusion of his prayer was, Not my will, but thine be done." It was the greatest occasion that ever was: and the earnestness of our Lord's prayer, the devotion of his soul, corresponded with it. Scenes of deep distress await us all. It is in vain to expect to pass through the world, without falling inte them. We have, in our Lord's example, a model for our behaviour, in the most severe and most trying of these occasions: afflicted, yet resigned; grieved and wounded, yet submissive; not insensi ble of our sufferings, but increasing the ardour and fervency of our prayer, in proportion to the pain and acuteness of our feelings.

But, whatever may be the fortune of our lives, one great extremity, at least, the hour of approaching death, is certainly to be passed through. What ought then to occupy us? what can then support us? Prayer. Prayer, with our blessed Lord him. self, was a refuge from the storm; almost every word he uttered during that tremendous scene, was prayer: prayer the most earnest, the most ur gent; repeated, continued, proceeding from the recesses of his soul; private, solitary: prayer for deliverance; prayer for strength; above every thing, prayer for resignation.

SERMON IX.

ON FILIAL PIETY.

And Joseph nourished his father, and his brethren, and all his father's household, with bread, according to their families.-Genesis xlvii. 12.

WHOEVER reads the Bible at all, has read the history of Joseph. It has universally attracted attention: and, without doubt, there is not one, but many points in it, which deserve to be noticed. It is a strong and plain example of the circuitous providence of God: that is to say, of his bringing about the ends and purposes of his providence, by seemingly casual and unsuspected means. That is a high doctrine, both of natural and revealed religion; and is clearly exemplified in this history. It is a useful example, at the same time, of the protection and final reward of virtue, though for a season oppressed and calumniated, or carried through a long series of distresses and misfortunes. I say, it is a useful example, if duly understood, and not urged too far. It shews the protection of providence to be with virtue under all its difficul. ties and this being believed upon good grounds, it is enough; for the virtuous man will be assured, that this protection will keep with him in and through all stages of his existence-living and dying he is in its hands-and for the same reason that it accompanies him, like an invisible guardian, through his trials, it will finally recompense him, This is the true application of that doctrine of a directing Providence, which is illustrated by the history of Joseph, as it relates to ourselves-I mean as it relates to those, who are looking forward to a future state. If we draw from it an opinion, or an expectation, that, because Joseph was at length rewarded with riches and honours, therefore we shall be the same, we carry the example farther than it will bear. It proves that virtue is under the protection of God, and will ultimately be taken

care of and rewarded: but in what manner, and in what stage of our existence, whether in the present or the future, or in both, is left open by the example and both may, and must depend, upon reasons, in a great measure unknown to and incalculable by us.

Again, The history of Joseph is a domestic example. It is an example of the ruinous consequences of partiality in a parent, and of the quar rels and contentions in a family, which naturally spring from such partiality.

Again, it is a lesson to all schemers and confer derates in guilt, to teach them this truth, that when their scheme does not succeed, they are sure to quarrel amongst themselves, and to go into the utmost bitterness of mutual accusation and reproach; as the brethren of Joseph, you find, did.

Again, It is a natural example of the effect of adversity, in bringing men to themselves, to reflections upon their own conduct, to a sense and perception of manythings, which had gone on, and might have gone on, unthought of and unperceived, if it had not been for some stroke of misfortune, which roused their attention. It was after the brethren of Joseph had been shut up by him in prison, and were alarmed, as they well might be, for their lives, that their consciences, so far as appears, for the first time, smote them: "We are verily guilty concerning our brother, in that we saw the anguish of his soul, when he besought us, and we would not hear." This is the natural and true effect of judgments in this world, to bring us to a knowledge of ourselves: that is to say, of those bad things in our lives which have deserved the calamities we are made to suffer.

These are all points in the history: but there is another point in Joseph's character, which I make choice of as the subject of my present discourse; and that is, his dutifulness and affection to his father. Never was this virtue more strongly dis played. It runs, like a thread, through the whole narrative; and whether we regard it, as a quality

to be admired, or, which would be a great deal better, as a quality to be imitated by us, so far as a great disparity of circumstances will allow of imitation (which in principle it always will do), it deserves to be considered with a separate and distinct attention.

When a surprising course of events had given to Joseph, after a long series of years, a most unexpected opportunity of seeing his brethren in Egypt, the first question, which he asked them, was, "Is your father yet alive?" This appears from the account, which Reuben gave to Jacob, of the conference, which they had held with the great man of the country, whilst neither of them, as yet, suspected wh he was. Joseph, you remember, had concealed himself, during their first journey, from the knowledge of his brethren; and it was not consistent with his disguise, to be more full and particular, than he was, in his inquiries.

On account of the continuance of the famine in the land, it became necessary for the brethren of Joseph to go a second time into Egypt to seek corn, and a second time to produce themselves before the lord of the country. What had been Joseph's first question on the former visit, was his first question in this, "Is your father well, the old man of whom ye spake; is he yet alive?" And they answered, "Thy servant, our father, is in good health, he is yet alive:" and they bowed down their heads, and made obeisance.

Hitherto you observe all had passed in disguise. The brethren of Joseph knew nothing who they were speaking to; and Joseph was careful to preserve the secret. You will now take notice, how this affected disguise was broken, and how Joseph found himself forced, as it were, from the resolution, he had taken, of keeping his brethren in ignorance of his person. He had proposed, you read, to detain Benjamin: the rest being perplexed beyond measure, and distressed by this proposal, Judah, approaching Joseph, presented a most earnest supplication for the deliverance of the child; offers

himself to remain Joseph's prisoner, or slave, in his brother's place; and, in the conclusion, touches, unknowingly, upon a string, which vibrates with all the affections of the person whom he was ad dressing. "How shall I go up to my father, and the lad be not with me? lest peradventure I see the evil that shall come on my father." The mention of this circumstance, and this person, subdued immediately the heart of Joseph: and produced a sudden, and, as it should seem, an undesigned premature discovery of himself to his astonished fa mily. Then, that is, upon this circumstance being mentioned, Joseph could not refrain himself; and, after a little preparation, Joseph said unto his brethren, "I am Joseph."

The great secret being now disclosed; what was the conversation, which immediately followed? The next word from Joseph's mouth was, "Doth my father yet live?" and his brethren could not answer him; surprise had overcome their faculty of utterance. After comforting, however, and encou raging his brethren, who seemed to sink under the intelligence, Joseph proceeds. "Haste ye, and go up to my father, and say unto him, Thus saith thy son Joseph, God hath made me lord of all Egypt: come down unto me, tarry not, and thou shalt dwell in the land of Goshen, and thou shalt be near unto me, and there will I nourish thee (for yet there are five years of famine), lest thou, and thy household, and all that thou hast, come to poverty. And ye shall tell my father of all my glory in Egypt, and of all that ye have seen: and ye shall haste, and bring down my father hither."

It is well known, that Jacob yielded to this invitation, and passed over with his family into Egypt.

The next thing to be attended to, is the reception, which he then met with, from his recovered son. "And Joseph made ready his chariot, and went up to meet Israel his father, to Goshen; and presented himself unto him, and he fell on his neck, and wept on his neck a good while. And