ADVERSITY A TEST OF CHARACTER.

WHEN iniquity abounds the love of many waxes cold. Seasons of trial distinguish the faithful from the false. The tempests which have, at different periods, shaken the church of God, have always eventually promoted its stability. Sufferings may diminish the number of nominal christians; but it unites more closely the little band of real disciples. It severs the precious from the vile. It discriminates characters. It exposes principles, and brings to light hidden motives. It melts down animosities among the brethren, and cements those who ought to "dwell together in unity." While Jesus was with his disciples, and they foresaw not impending evil, we often find them alienated, and contending for pre-eminence; but when their Master was "taken from their head," when Israel's hopes lay buried, as they imagined, in that new tomb, hewn out of a rock, on the side of Calvary, we see them assembled in one room; a sense of danger and of desertion drew brother to brother, and friend to friend; they felt that they had a common interest; and they resolved to live and die together. "Sweet are the uses of adversity!" While affliction cements the church of Christ, it imparts lustre to the character of the individual. Trial gives a polish to human nature. It controls the passions; it softens the heart; it subdues pride; it generates sympathy. He who has frequented the school of adversity, has been taught this important lesson

to "put on bowels of compassion, and tender mercies." He who cannot feel for another's woe, never himself endured, or never profited by the stroke of calamity. Nor is sorrow, sanctified sorrow, less beneficial to personal religion. It quickens devotion, it produces resignation, it awakens caution, it stimulates serious self-examination. As the light of prosperity expires, every christian grace shines more brightly; and when the day departs, what brilliant stars kindle their immortal radiance in this darkened hemisphere. The cause of general religion is aided by affliction. Does it disperse the fickle multitude? It renders more conspicuous the faithful few. A city set-upon a hill which cannot be hid is the little society that dares to adhere to the Redeemer in the evil day, and amidst the falling off of professors. An individual who stands fast in a time of apostasy, is in himself a tower of strength to the cause: he attracts more observers even by his singularity; and he commands their admiration, in defiance of themselves.

THE FIRST TRIUMPHS OF DEATH.

WE have seen Death in so many shapes, have felt his witness within us by so many infallible proofs of sickness and decay, that if he is a fearful, he is not a novel enemy. We have stood around the dying beds of our dearest connections: we have uncovered the sepulchre to deposit in its dark

chambers our own flesh; we have died again and again in our family-death has assailed us in a thousand forms-has wrung tears from our eyes, and sorrow from our hearts, at every period of our lives, and every stage of our journey-and yet has he not lost his terrors! We still watch his approach with anxiety-we listen to the silent celerity of his footsteps with fear. When he robs us afresh, we feel the blow as poignantly as though we had never felt it before; when he rushes to seize us, we receive him as though he were a stranger. What then must he have been to the first men? They had not, like us, traced his horrible features: they had not, like us, watched his destructive progress they had not, like us, witnessed his frequent visits. If you take the trouble to calculate, you will find that notwithstanding so many names, and, as it appears, generations, preceded Enoch, there is no recorded death, excepting Abel and Adam: such was human longevity! The world had no opportunity to watch the action of death in the first instance; for it was violent, unnatural, and performed by a brother's hand, the murderer alone being present. I can easily conceive, therefore, with what anxiety they would watch the footsteps of time in the person of Adam, the venerable father of the human race; who, being the first in the transgression, was, perhaps, also the first who tasted of death in all its natural bitterness. O what an interest every sickness would excite! What anxiety every pang would cause! Every fresh line

in his countenance would be marked. As he grew enfeebled by age, their attention would redouble: and when, at last, the long expected blow was struck, what a group of astonished, affrighted countenances were assembled! The last sigh— the last look-the last tear-the last word-the last breath-all left upon the heart an impression which time could not obliterate!

THE EXAMPLE OF ANCIENT SAINTS.

WHEN the ancient saints pass before our eyes, clothed in the beauty of holiness, and encompassed with the transcendent glories of religion, we are dazzled with their splendour, and are almost induced to conclude that their characters display something more than human. We venerate the piety which preserved Noah and his family in the universal desolation of the flood; and which delivered Lot from amidst the ruins of the cities of the plain. We admire the faith of Abraham, who, when he was called to forsake his country and his father's house, went forth, not knowing whither ho went; and when he was commanded to sacrifice his only son, laid him without murmuring upon the altar of God, relying with implicit confidence on the divine rectitude, and listening to the voice of duty, even when it opposed the pleadings of We envy Elijah his fidelity, and David his piety and in all these distinguished characters

nature.

we find something to excite respect, mingled with humility. But when we inspect their lives more closely, we perceive their frailties, and discover that these all were men of "like passions with ourselves." Noah, in the ark, and in the vineyard; Lot, in Sodom, and in the solitude of the mountain; Abraham, on Mount Moriah, and in Egypt; David in the cave, and in the palace-a shepherd and a prince; Elijah, "bold for the Lord of Hosts," in the city, and timidly, impatiently desiring to die in the wilderness; appear different beings. They fail also in their grand characteristics-Noah in his temperance; Lot in his purity; Abraham in his faith; David in his tenderness of conscience; and Elijah in his courage. They required the refreshment of religious privileges; and availed themselves of the appointed means of grace to keep alive their duties, and to give stability to their character. The ordinances which were thus manifestly useful and necessary to them, must be deemed essential and indispensable to us. If they could not live without prayer, neither can we. If they felt the necessity of self-examination, should not we say, "Search us, O God, and know our hearts; try us, and know our thoughts; and see if there be any wicked way in us, and lead us in the way everlasting!" If their graces languished, can we wonder that ours fade? If the cloud of affliction dropped its tears upon them, shall we expect to pass along without finding its shadow stretched sometimes over our path? If they could not live