quired to wait long and anxiously for the cloud to be dispersed. But when we consider how ready, how willing, how powerful he is to impart to us all we need or can desire, we have every ground of encouragement and patient hope to put unreserved trust in Him. Happy therefore, most happy are those who without repining or doubt are enabled to submit to present dispensations, waiting their concealed and suspended issue, but confidently expecting it will be good.

"Let us then run with patience the race that is set before us; looking unto Jesus, who is the author and finisher of our faith; for although no chastening seemeth, for the present, to be joyous, but grievous, nevertheless, afterward, it yieldeth the peaceable fruit of righteousness unto them who are exercised thereby. Wherefore lift up the hands that hang down, and the feeble knees."-(Heb. xii. 1, 2, 11, 12.) "Cast not away your confidence," saith the apostle, "which hath great recompence of reward." (Heb. x. 35.) "For ye have need of patience, that, after ye have done (or suffered) the will of God, ye might receive the

promise. For yet a little while, and He that shall come, will come, and will not tarry." Oh, let us not sink or despond, even if we are called to "endure a great fight of afflictions ;" remembering the words of inspiration, which, while they breathe of all consolation, have also declared "The just shall live by faith; but, if any man draw back, my soul hath no pleasure in him."—(Heb. x. 38.)

"Oh, shall frail man Heaven's dread decree gainsay,

Which bade the series of events extend

Wide through unnumber'd worlds, and ages without end?

One part, one little part, we dimly scan,

Through the dark medium of life's feverish dream,
Yet dare arraign the whole stupendous plan,
If but that little part incongruous seem;
Nor is that part, perhaps, what mortals deem.
Oft from apparent ill our blessings rise,
O, then renounce that impious self-esteem,
That aims to trace the secrets of the skies,

For thou art but of dust: be humble, and be wise."

BEATTIE'S MINSTREL.

THE PILGRIM OF EARTH.

66

They confessed they were strangers and pilgrims

on the earth."-Heb. xi. 13.

THOUGH Sunless, moonless, starless, seem

The sufferer's lonely state,

There is a light, whose cheering beam

Its gloom can dissipate.

It comes with healing on its wings,
And heavenly radiance round it flings.

It rises on the darken'd mind,
In lustre brighter, far,

Than that to outward orb assign'd,

Of sun, or moon, or star.

And matchless is its mild controul

Over the desolate of soul.

There is a Friend, more tender, true,

Than brother ere can be,

Who, when all others bid adieu,

Remains, the last to flee;

Who, be their pathway bright or dim,

Deserts not those who turn to Him!

The heart by Him sustain'd, though deep

Its anguish, still can bear:

The soul He condescends to keep,
Shall never know despair:

In nature's weakness, sorrow's night,
God is its strength, its joy, its light.

He is the Friend who changeth not,
In sickness or in health;

Whether on earth our transient lot
Be poverty or wealth.

In joy or grief, contempt or fame,
To all who seek Him, still the same.

Of human hearts He holds the key,
Is friendship meet for ours?
O be assured that none but He
Unlocks its purest powers:

He can recal the lost-the dead-
Or give us nobler in their stead.

Of earthly friends, who finds them true
May boast a happy lot;

But happier still, life's journey through,
Is he who needs them not.

A heavenly Friend, to know we need,
To feel we have, is bliss indeed.

B. BARTON.

ASPIRATIONS.

SUPPORT me, O Lord, my God, by thy heavenly grace, and uphold me by thy Holy Spirit, till my faith prove the "victory that overcometh the world!"

O Jesus, enlighten me with the brightness of thine eternal light, and chase all darkness from my soul.

Shower down thy consoling grace from above, and shed thy heavenly dew into my heart.

O unite my soul to Thee, for thou only, O Lord, art sufficient for the soul that loveth Thee.

O that I might have my request, and that God would grant me the thing that I long

for.

The arrows of the Almighty are in me, the poison whereof drinketh up my spirit.