his calm clear voice of mingled reprimand and revival, "O thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt ?"

We are apt to complain sometimes of life's weary trials, and of the difficulties and hardships of our Christian calling; but we may bless God for them all, as for our greatest mercies, if by his grace they thus become the means of directing our thoughts and our prayers to him. When danger is absent, we are apt to depart from God, because we forget our dependence, we forget our infirmity, we are confident and strong in the apparent strength and confidence of our faith; and it is only when we feel that faith to be actually giving way, its strength all gone, and its high confidence turned into doubt and fear,—it is not till then that we are thoroughly convinced of its utter insufficiency, and disposed to trust no longer in our faith itself, but in the Lord our God, who is the object of our faith.

Thus it may frequently happen, that, being conscious of some particular duty hitherto neglected, or of some one sin which very easily besets us, in the depth of our repentance, and the holy ardour of our faith, we resolve now to perform that duty punctually, and resolutely to renounce that sin. Our repentance may be a repentance of godly sorrow, our faith may be for the time sincere. And feeling quite secure in the conscious integrity of our own good purposes, we forget their weakness, we forget the difficulty of the task which we have imposed upon ourselves,-we forget the temptation which, in a few short hours, will assail us. But that temptation comes too soon, and the difficulty which we had strangely overlooked is felt.

"We see the wind boisterous, and are afraid, and begin to sink." We find ourselves fast yielding to the allurements or the terrors of the world, which we still too fondly love. Betrayed too by the inclinations of our own deceitful hearts, we find ourselves just about to omit the duty again, and once more, only once more, to commit the sin. But we stop short just in time; we betake ourselves to prayer; and a single thought of heaven, perhaps,a single ejaculation directed thither,-draws down an influence from on high, to strengthen, to quicken, to revive us.

Happy is it for us if we learn from such critical experience the double lesson of watchfulness and prayer. Happy is it for us if, thus convinced of our own helplessness, we neither resolve nor act in our own strength. "He that trusteth in his own heart is a fool."

Let us ponder well the lesson of Peter's faith.

دو

Let us

That

learn, like Paul, to profit by our very infirmities. apostle, for our instruction, has thus recorded his experience: "There was given to me a thorn in the flesh -some sore outward trial or grievous inward temptation-“lest I should be exalted above measure;" and "I besought the Lord thrice, that it might depart from me." The answer was, not the removal of the thorn, nor any promise as to its removal, but the mere general assurance," My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness." "Therefore," adds the holy apostle, "I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses, for Christ's sake: for when I am weak, then am I strong;"-weak in the feeling of

my own utter helplessness; strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might.

He giveth

"Why sayest thou, O Jacob, and speakest, O Israel, M. way is hid from the Lord, and my judgment is passed over from my God? Hast thou not known? hast thou not heard, that the everlasting God, the Lord, the Creator of the ends of the earth, fainteth not, neither is weary? there is no searching of his understanding. power to the faint; and to them that have no might he increaseth strength. Even the youths shall faint and be weary, and the young men shall utterly fall: but they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint" (Isaiah xl. 27-31).

XII.

MARTHA AND MARY.

PART FIRST.-Their Common Grief.

"Lord, if thou hadst been here, my brother had not died."-John xi. 21, 32.

Ir is better to go to the house of mourning than to go to the house of feasting: for that is the end of all men ; and the living will lay it to his heart. Sorrow is better than laughter: for by the sadness of the countenance the heart is made better. The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning: but the heart of fools is in the house of mirth." Such is the voice of wisdom (Eccl. vii. 2-4). If this is true generally as to the effect which should be produced by familiarizing the heart with the devout contemplation of death, and of the grief which death occasions, it must be especially true when we have Jesus as our companion.

It was our Lord's custom, in his visits to Jerusalem at the feasts, to retire in the evening, after the toils and trials of his daily ministry in the temple, to the quiet village of Bethany, and the peaceful abode of Lazarus. There he found the rest and repose which he needed, in the holy endearments of a congenial family circle;-the nearest approach, for him who "had not where to lay his head," to the warm heartiness of home.

That house is now the house of mourning. Let us

visit it in the company of Jesus, and let us observe how he is received there, and how his presence cheers the gloom.

The sisters, Martha and Mary, greet him with the same pathetic salutation, "Lord, if thou hadst been here, my brother had not died." And this might seem to indicate an entire similarity in their sorrow. But if we look a little closer, we see a striking difference of demeanour, corresponding to the manifest difference of their characters generally. And this difference is marked in our Lord's different treatment of them. In every view, this record of sisterly affection is an interesting study. We may learn from it, in the first place, How much sameness there is in grief; secondly, How much variety; and, lastly, How much compass there is in the consolation of Christ, as capable of being adapted to all varieties of grief-to grief of every mould and of every mood. We speak chiefly throughout of the grief of true Christians; for we are surely warranted in assuming that, notwithstanding their great contrast in respect of natural temperament, the two sisters were partakers of the same grace.

At present we advert to the similarity of their common sorrow, the sameness of their grief. For it is remarkable, that two persons so different in their turn of mind, as we shall afterwards see that these sisters were,—so apt to view things in different lights, and to be affected by them with different feelings,-should both utter the very same words on first meeting the Lord Jesus: "Lord, if thou hadst been here, my brother had not died." shows how natural such a reflection is in such a season;

It