bosom of the lake; rides on the rapid whirlwind, or whispers in the evening air. Think, I pray you, of that wisdom which conducts, at the same moment, the innumerable purposes of all his creatures, and whose own grand purpose is equally accomplished by the failure or by the success of all the plans of all his creatures. Think of him under whom all agents operate, because by him all beings exist. Think of him who has but to will it, and all moving nature pauses in her course, chaos succeeds to the harmony of innumerable spheres, and eternal darkness overwhelms this universe of light. Yet in the midst of darkness his throne is stable, and all is light about the seat of God. Such knowledge is too wonderful for us; for it is high, we cannot attain unto it.'

If the knowledge of God is thus extensive and minute, and his power so irresistible, surely his favor, my friends, must be of infinite importance to every creature upon earth. Suppose you had secured the friendship of every power in the universe, and that even the world of invisible spirits waited upon your orders and guarded your life ;leave but God your enemy, and what is the worth of your security? Let him be but your enemy, and what power on earth or in heaven could protect you? But on the contrary, if he is your friend, you have nothing to fear. The hatred of man is transitory, the love of God is eternal. If all the elements were combined against you, if all your plans were defeated, your sorrows multiplied with

every return of day, and the calumny of every breath in creation poured upon your character, if God is but your friend, princes shall envy you, worldly greatness shall bow to yours, the rich and mighty shall wish to change with you their lot, and the wicked will look up with reverence to the man whom God delighteth to honor. Let God be your friend, and the dark course of your life shall terminate in light, your integrity shall burst out at last like the noonday, and the light of God's countenance shall rest in glory on your head. If God your friend, all things are yours, whether life or death, things present or to come, time and eternity.

is

My friends, would to God it were as easy to persuade you to a temper and conduct correspondent to this belief in God's providence, as it is to persuade you of its truth! Forget not, I pray you, that in this great being we live, and move, and have our being; nothing befalls us which he does. not accomplish; nothing befalls us which he cannot prevent. He is everywhere; above, below, around; nay, more, he is within us. He knows therefore the secrets of the heart. Love him, then, for what is past; but, whether you may trust him or fear him for what is to come, God only knoweth !

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SERMON II.

OUR LOT IN LIFE NOT AT OUR OWN DISPOSAL, BUT ORDERED BY GOD.

PROVERBS, XVI. 9.

A MAN'S HEART DEVISETH HIS WAY; BUT THE LORD DIRECTETH

HIS STEPS.

THAT the providence of God extends to the minutest concerns in the life of every man, and that how often soever we may be disappointed or lost in the uncertainties which appear to surround us, God's designs proceed steadily to their accomplishment; and that these designs are invariably benevolent in their progress, though sometimes their tendency is not immediately seen, are truths which have impressed themselves so strongly on my own conviction, that I cannot avoid wishing they may be felt with equal force by you, my christian friends. No man, I think, can have passed half the term of human existence, without discovering, that more than once his projects have been frustrated, his courses altered, his buds of hope blasted, and the lofty fabric of his expectations overthrown, he knows not how, nor whence, nor

wherefore. No man, I think, would venture deliberately to offend the Almighty Disposer of his lot, could he but realize the completeness of his dependence upon him. In the bustle of human exertion, it is almost impossible to keep this sentiment in active and uninterrupted exercise. With a view then of making a pious impression on our hearts, I shall attempt,

First, To show how little our external situation in life has depended on ourselves; and,

Secondly, To prove, that if our circumstances were more at our own disposal, and our wishes more frequently accomplished, we should probably be less happy than we are at present.

To show you how little our lot in the world has been in our own hands, it is not necessary to carry you back to those hours when you were waiting for life, and the little spark of existence, just kindled, was trembling under every passing breath of casualty. It is not necessary to dwell upon the days of your infancy, when it was every minute doubtful whether the being that had been introduced into life, would live long enough to understand that he had a life to preserve. We will pass over those days of boyhood, when the understanding is not ripe enough to form plans, and when the forethought just appearing extends no further than to the pleasures, hardly to the evils of the morrow. We will pass over, too, the remaining years of minority, when the imagination just begins to know its own alacrity, and, fertile in youthful projects, leaps forward from one year to another, of a life

long in prospect, touching every object it meets with the tints of hope. The whole of this early period, though it often gives a lasting color to the remainder of life, is so little within our own power, and is so seldom influenced by any plans which we are then capable of forming, that it would be superfluous to insist longer upon the conclusion we would draw from it.

There is a time, however, when every man begins to feel something of his own self-sufficiency, when we choose the pursuits we mean to follow, mark out what we imagine to be the road to happiness, and, thus prepared, enter on the wide and busy scene of active life. From this period, then, when you think you have taken the thread of your fortunes into your own hands, allow me to follow you a few steps.

In

The first fact which shows us how little our present situation is the result of our own arrangements, is the innumerable defeats every man's plans encounter. I appeal to any one who has lived long in the world, whether, at any period of his life, he has found himself in the precise circumstances he expected. This certainty of disappointment results from more than one source. the first place, so various and complicated are human interests, so inordinate are many of our desires, and so unreasonable are others, that two individuals can hardly form extensive plans of conduct which shall not interfere, if not by direct collision, at least in some subordinate parts, so as to affect the issue of the whole. What a range of