heart susceptible of various pleasing sensations and emotions, whether it beat in the responsive harmony of friendship, or dilate into the generous feeling of universal benevolence: though he has afforded certain stages of refreshment during our toils, many places of rest in our pilgrimage; much to allay our pains, and much to assuage our grief, much to comfort, and much to delight; yet with all these bright characters, are mixt shades of nameless degrees. The same divine hand tempers alike the serious and the gay; the same infinite wisdom, that clothes the day in its splendour, and wraps the night in its sable mantle, makes the day of prosperity to arise, and introduces the night of trouble. Though our possessions of good are many, and our wishes more, yet ruin may await the one, and disappointment the other. Though the human heart is formed capable of much pleasure and exultation; though friendship may warm, and benevolence feed more than its vital fire; yet it is a mansion too, where hatred, revenge, envy, and remorse, with a whole company of the most outrageous and troublesome guests, may reside. Though we have respite allowed us from toi!, and many supports in the journey of life, yet dangers ever lie in wait by the side of the path, and many accidents will befal us, though there be a balm for every wound.

As the happiness of human life can be derived from no other source but inexhaustible goodness, so neither do the evils of it proceed from any other. Calamities and afflictions come not from the hand of chance; we owe not our sufferings to a blind necessity, or fatal doom to pain, but to the wise disposals of Heaven, to the appointments of eternal wisdom. As this is the very state of being upon which I propose to vindicate

divine providence, it will be necessary to take a cursory view of man's imperfect state in the world.

It is as natural to expect calamity in human life, as to see the sparks of fire ascend; and all who are born into this world, are as certainly born to trouble, as they are to the light of the sun: and ever since the sun first rose to enlighten this earth, there has not been one exceptive instance. The doom of suffering afflictions in this world, is as irreversible as the sentence of death. No man can shew a better title to uninterrupted happiness in this state of being, than he can to immortality here.

Where is the breast that never heaved a sigh? Where the heart that never suffered from disappointment? Where breathes the man who never encountered difficulties, who never experienced trouble? Where shall we find him? Earth knows not such a being the sun never rose upon such a vacant mortal as this. No! it finds us all encumbered with trouble, anxiety, distress and pain, at the breaking day, nor sees us more disengaged when it retires at night. But to be more particular: let us take an impartial view of man from his natal hour to the close of life ; let us consider him in each stage of existence; let us contemplate his rising day, his meridian glory, and his setting honour. His first scene of being opens with sorrow: bewailings are the first language he utters; helpless in himself, he owes every thing to foreign aid, and solicits it from the arms of maternal tenderness. Tears are the tribute of each day for the blessings of existence. In infancy, trifles amuse, disgust and pain. In youth, impatient of controul, warm with desire, sanguine in expectation, elate with hope, he enters the world, he hurries on heedless in the

pursuit of pleasure, till his passions and appetites are all full sated; then disgust arises, selfreproach harasses his mind, hence arises discontent; and the man who once thought the world could not sufficiently be enjoyed, finds his afflic tion from the insufficiency of all it can afford. The hour of age at length arrives, which serves in general for little more than a dull comment upon past pleasures, or a painful recollection of past follies. At this period the bodily frame is often afflicted with pains and diseases, which make the mind captious and severe, and the last stage of man's existence here, is generally such, that he wishes for the hospitable grave long before death gives its awful summons. These are

the troubles to which mortal flesh is heir; this the inheritance to which we are born.

But grant, for argument sake, that a man is entirely free from these bodily complaints. I will suppose one who never knew the languor of disease nor the severity of pain, whose sprightly spirits flow on, in the chearful current of uninterrupted ease: allow him but a heart sensible of feeling for another's distress, and he at once becomes the son of affliction. The friend of his bosom, the partner of his social joys, the child of his youth, are torn, for ever torn from his embraces, by the hand of relentless death. If ambition lead to its airy pursuits, and for these a man shall forego the substantial titles of father, husband, friend, the fear of a rival shall diturb his breast, the fear of losing the popular voice shall fill the mind with perpetual uneasiness and pain. This the condition of man!

If such be his troubles, you may ask me, where are the blessings of providence to be found? What! are its blessings so thinly scattered, that only here and there the boon of human felicity

is bestowed? Must tenfold trouble be thrown into the scale, to balance against one single scruple of bliss, weighed out by the parsimonious hand of Heaven? Cease these complaints, ye murmuring sons of men. God is neither weak in his power, defective in his wisdom, or sparing in his bounty: this is the lot of human life, that man might humble himself, submit and adore.. Had this state been less diversified with evil, the eternal state had been totally forgotten. This state abounds with so many blessings, and is so well accommodated to our passions and enjoyments, that all the evils and miseries, of which we so much complain, are hardly sufficient to wean our affections from, or break off our strong attachments to it. Instead of complaining against, adore the beneficence of God, that through the means of afflictions, makes us consider how frail we are, so as to apply ourselves to heavenly wisdom.

Listen to the gospel and its heavenly author. These inform you, that your afflictions, however painful, enter into the views of God for your improvement, and are the appointed means of his providence and grace, by which he would train you for happiness, and make you fit for the inheritance of everlasting glory. They assure you, that a day approaches when the trial shall be over; and where, if you have persevered to the end, cheerfully following your Saviour whereever he conducts you, to Calvary, as well as to Tabor; to the lonely hut of wretched poverty, as well as to the abodes of splendour and abundance; your affliction shall cease, all tears be wiped from your eyes, and your sorrows at length converted into joy.

Can you, then, name me one single calamity, for which the gospel does not open infinite stores

of consolation? Is it the disappointments of life, those various shipwrecks of fortune, which so frequently happen on the tempestuous ocean of the world? Those failures in trade, arising from the peculiar circumstances of the times? It is the hope of religion, and it is only this hope which can enable the Christian to meet misfortunes with dignity, to receive them with humility, and support them with resignation; looking forward to that celestial country of which faith and good works have made him a citizen, where he has a better, a permanent substance, where his Father reigns, and prepares for him a throne of glory. Is it domestic affliction, occasioned by the death of one whom you tenderly loved? It was unerring wisdom which planned the design, it was unbounded goodness which guided the dispensation. Perhaps that smiling infant, the little darling whose loss you so bitterly deplore, whose last convulsive pangs of dissolution still live in your memory, concealed the seeds of dispositions, which, matured by time, might have plunged daggers into your bosom, given a mortal stab to your repose, and, in return for all your parental tenderness, brought your grey hairs with sorrow to the grave. Perhaps the partner of your life and happiness was all the while stealing your heart from God, rivetting your attachments to earth, intercepting your prospect of immortality, and almost extinguishing your desires of obtaining it. Religion informs you of their destiny, teaches you that if they died in the Lord, they have cast off corruption to put on immortality, that they have rested from their labours in the bosom of God. Religion farther instructs you, that if you walk in the steps which conducted them to happiness, you shall renew that communication with them, which death only suspended,