displayed their beauty and their glory. Here the patriarchal Sewall tenderly exhorted, and the erudite Pierce instructed a thronging multitude in the day of bright prosperity, and loved as brothers, and prayed and labored together in heavenly harmony. Cumming shone out as a star, and quickly melted away into the light of heaven, and Hunt, in the freshness and beauty of his genius, came forth as an angel of love, and hastened to join his predecessors on high. Here, too, Blair and Bacon left their testimony that it is only by mutual confindence and sympathy that pastor and people can be together blest. The venerated Eckley, too, here repaired the desolations of Zion, and gathered back the flock that had been scattered by the fierce blast of war, and the amiable, the prudent, the reproachless Huntington, stood with him, as a son with a father, and still stood for a little while in his place when the father was gone, warning sinners to Christ. And from the same hallowed desk, another has but recently gone down to stand foremost among those, who are sending the same gospel, which has here been so long preached and rejoiced in, around the globe. He still lingers among us, and has been permitted to lay his hand on the head of a successor, and consecrate him to stand here and labor in his stead. But the spirits of the holy ones who have gone before! Have they not been with us also? If there is joy in heaven among the angels, when a single sinner on earth repenteth, have the redeemed no knowledge of it that they

may participate in the joy? Have those who rose from this spot no knowledge of us? Methinks they are gazing upon us now. Hark! they call to us! Sons, children, forget not your fathers, and forsake not your fathers' God. Hold sacred the inheritance we gave you, and be faithful to yourselves, to your children and to your trust! Yes, ye sainted ones, we do remember you, and your God is our God even unto death! We will hold sacred the inheritance you bequeathed us! "If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her cunning: let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth, if I do not prefer thee above my chief joy."

What may be the design of Providence in leading you now to the united choice of one encompassed with infirmities, we know not. It is yet to be disclosed. God grant it may not be for a mutual chastisement, but for a blessing to me and to you. I come to you in weakness and in fear and much trembling. It is only some humble trust in him, the joy of whom may be made my strength, and a full confidence in your candor and kindness, that now sustains me. With this I give myself, mind and heart, to the work. It only remains that I ask your constant prayers. When you go into the retirement of your closet, to commune alone with God, when you gather your families around your family altar, and when you take your children aside to teach them to pray, let there be one petition for him who has been consecrated to serve your faith.

Pray for him, that his own faith may not fail. Pray that he may have heart and mind and strength to serve you effectually. Pray that he may not falter and languish and faint, and turn from the work, as it would seem that he must; but rather than this, that life and usefulness might terminate together; that if he must fall, he may fall at once in the midst of the service, with the robes of the temple still wrapped about him, like a good soldier of the cross, still fighting the good fight, firm and faithful to the last, and go up all armored and nerved from the combat. Pray that you all may be gathered with him in peace unto God; and when we stand on the mount above, may we be permitted to gather together, beneath those trees, whose leaves are for the healing of the nations, and by the river of God which flows from his throne, and talk together of this day, and once in commemoration of it, sing together the new song. With such bright hopes, and a heart to help each other on to heaven, let the ministry which begins to-day, begin, continue, and end. "Yea, and if I be offered on the sacrifice and service of your faith, I joy and rejoice with you all. For the same cause, also, do ye joy and rejoice with me."

SERMON III.

JOHN XVI. 33.

IN THE WORLD YE SHALL HAVE TRIBULATION.

WHEN Our Saviour gathered his chosen disciples around him, just before his crucifixion, to speak to them words of comfort, and to give them a testimony, that "having loved his own, he loved them unto the end," he did not conceal or disguise the fact, that in the world they must suffer trials and afflictions. He told them he would not leave them comfortless, and bade them be of good cheer, and love one another, and keep his commandments; and promised them he would come again, and receive them unto himself; but he offered them no consolations from the world, and gave them no assurances of happiness in the present life. "Let not your heart be troubled," said he; "in my Father's house are many mansions; I go to prepare a place for you. It is expedient for you that I go away. Ye now, therefore, have sorrow; but I will see you again, and your hearts shall rejoice. As the Father hath loved me, so have I loved you: continue ye in my love. These things have I spoken unto you, that

in me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall

have tribulation."

Nothing can exempt men from suffering so long as they remain in the flesh. Neither the faith of the righteous, nor the fearlessness of the wicked, can secure them unmingled pleasures, or protect them against repeated ills. The charming scenes of earthly good, which the young, the spirited, and the sanguine are continually forming in their imaginations of the future, may, at best, but amuse them with some faint idea of what this world might have been if man had not sinned, and the earth had not been subjected to a curse. They have now no reality here. They deceive men while they allure, encourage but to open upon them disappointment, and engage their affections but to divert them. from the only objects that bring permanent peace.

It may, perhaps, compose our minds to a better enjoyment of the comforts which this world does afford, and give us a healthier taste for the joys of another, as well as to prepare us to meet with firmness and serenity our appointed troubles, to contemplate some of the sources, and the unfailing certainty of human suffering.

The very earth itself, from which we were formed, and by whose productions we are fed and clothed, is doomed to occasion us much disquietude. It is no longer a proper dwelling-place for happy spirits. It is fit only to be the temporary residence of beings. who need to be alternately cheered and chastised. Could our first parents now return to it, with all