not thou the chastening of the Lord, nor faint when thou art rebuked of him. For whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom he receiveth." Such gracious purposes as these were answered by this dispensation. They were much more deeply sensible of the value of the privileges which they had enjoyed in their own land, when they were for a time deprived of them. We must all be aware how ready we are to undervalue the comforts bestowed upon us, especially when we have long had the enjoy. ment of them. It is on a bed of sickness that we learn the value of health. It is when sleepless nights are appointed to us that we can estimate the value of a sound sleep. It is the traveller in a sandy desert, under a scorching sun, that can estimate the value of a draught of cold water. Thus the captives of Judah, when in the land of Babylon, were led to form a higher estimate of the privileges which they had enjoyed in their own land. And although they had but lightly esteemed them, when they had enjoyed them, they longed to be restored to them. They wept when they remembered Zion. Again, it is not to be doubted that sin would be embittered to them, when they contemplated it as the procuring cause of their calamities. They would be led to a serious review of their past lives, to see wherein they had offended against God, to mourn over their transgressions, and provocations, and backslidings, and to acknowledge them before God. And the book of Lamentations would be a help to them for awakening and cherishing that sorrow, and contrition, and humiliation to which they were especially called at that time: "The Lord is righteous, for I have rebelled against his commandments. Behold, O Lord, I am in distress; my bowels are troubled: my heart is turned within me; for I have grievously rebelled." Again, this dispensation was fitted to promote amongst them a spirit of prayer. When all other refuges failed, they would look unto the Lord, from whom alone help could come. Thus Daniel, in the land of his captivity, prayed three times a-day, with his window open, in the direction of Jerusalem. And thus in the Lamentations the godly among the Jewish captives are represented as acknowledging their transgressions, and pleading for God's returning favour The crown is fallen from our head: woe unto us, that we have sinned! For this, our heart is faint; for these things our eyes are dim. Because of the mountain of Zion, which is desolate; the foxes walk upon it. Thou, O Lord, remainest for ever; thy throne from generation to generation. Wherefore dost thou forget us for ever, and forsake us so long time? Turn thou us unto thee, O Lord, and we shall be turned; renew our days as of old. But thou hast utterly rejected us; thou art very wroth against us." and they carry them away captive into a land far off,or near; and they bethink themselves in the land whither they are carried captive; and pray unto thee in the land of their captivity, and pray towards the land which thou gavest to their fathers, and toward the city which thou hast chosen, and toward the house which I have built for thy name; then hear thou from the heavens, even from thy dwelling-place, their prayers and supplications, and maintain their cause, and forgive thy people, which have sinned against thee." They had also the ministrations of prophets, as Jeremiah and Ezekiel. And it is remarkable that both these prophets, and more particularly Ezekiel, were directed to dwell much upon their final restoration to their own land, and their complete deliverance from all their enemies. This was fitted to soothe and comfort them under the hardships of their captivity. He that intended to ac complish so great a deliverance for their nation, though at a remote period, they might conclude, would not be unmindful of them in the depressed circumstances in which they were then placed. It was an alleviation of their distress, too, that their captivity was limited to a certain time. And though the period was long and numbers of them might not live to see expire, still the hope of deliverance in the Lord's ap pointed time cheered and upheld thein. Although the vision of deliverance might seem to tarry long, they were still encouraged to wait for it, assured that, in the appointed time, it would come and would not tarry. It only remains, in closing this period of the Jewish history, to follow them into their own land again, when the period of their captivity was expired. There were apparently many obstructions to the accomplishment of the promise of their return to their own land, which were ready at times to make their faith stagger. But as the time drew nigh, difficulties were removed. The mighty empire of Babylon, with all its wealth, and power, and resources, that seemed destined to last for ages, was suddenly overturned, and was succeeded by the Persian empire. And the kings of Persia showed favour to the captive Jews. And they not only per mitted their return to their own land, but aided their return, and restored to them the sacred vessels for the temple service that had been taken away by the king of Babylon. And when at length a royal decree was published for rebuilding the city and temple; and the captives were made free, and invited and encouraged to return to their own land; they could hardly believe the joyful tidings. Their mourning was suddenly turned into joy and thanksgiving. "When the Lord turned the captivity of his people, then we were as men that dreamed. Then was our mouth filled with laughter, and our tongue with singing. Then said they among the heathen, The Lord hath done great things for them. The Lord hath done great things for us: whereof we are glad." templating! We have long been highly favoured among the nations; we have been distinguished in regard to religious privileges; we have had times of great na tional prosperity; we have experienced many signal deliverances out of the hands of our enemies; we have seen the flames of war and discord spreading among surrounding nations, while we have had a time of com parative tranquillity and peace. But have we rendered unto the Lord according to his benefits towards us? Thus it has, in part, appeared that there were alleviating circumstances connected with the Babylonish captivity, and that the Lord had not utterly forsaken them. But the subject may admit of farther illustra 1. What a striking lesson of admonition and warn tion. They had among them the Holy Scriptures,ing is addressed to us by the subject we have been con in so far as they were then written. The copies might not be numerous: but they would be more highly prized, and more carefully perused by them, when they were deprived of other privileges which they had enjoyed in their own land. They had still the liberty of access to the throne of grace. And though they were then far removed from Jerusalem; yet they still poured out their supplications to the God of their fathers, having their eyes directed towards the temple at Jerusalem. And they were encouraged to do so, from what Solomon had stated in his prayer, at the dedication of the temple, when he was directed by the Spirit to anticipate the very case in which they were then placed. "If they sin against thee, (for there is no man that liveth and sinneth not ;) and thou be angry with them, and deliver them over before their enemies; Alas! no. The Lord has a controversy with us, and has been giving warnings of judgments, and tokens of his righteous displeasure. And if we turn not unto the Lord, with our whole souls and our whole hearts, we have ground to fear that the threatened blow will be inflicted; that the Lord will remove our candlestick out of its place; yea, that he may cause us to be dis tracted by civil commotions, and give us up to the will of our enemies. 2. From the subject that has been under consideration we may learn, that it becomes us, in all the most trying circumstances in which we may be placed, to see the Lord's hand in what befalls us, and to acknowledge that our sins and provocations are the great procuring cause of trouble, and the ground of God's controversy with us. We are to acknowledge, that we are punished less than our iniquities have deserved; and why should a living man complain, a man for the punishment of his sins? We are to be thankful for all the alleviating circumstances whereby the Lord hath been pleased to sweeten the bitter cup of affliction; and we are especially to desire, that all those gracious purposes, for which affliction has been sent, may be answered with regard to us that we may come forth from the furnace of affliction as gold that has been tried in the fire. 3. From the subject that has been under consideration we may learn, that one strong ground of encouragement and support to the people of God, under all their own personal trials, and under all the darkest dispensations of Providence as affecting the Church, is to look beyond their present tossings amidst the billows of trials, and perplexities, and troubles, to the great and glorious deliverance which shall yet be accomplished for the Church and people of God, when God will finally turn the captivity of his people, and establish them for ever in their own land, beyond the reach of every danger, and of every foe. "Oh thou afflicted, tossed with tempest, and not comforted; behold, I will lay thy stones with fair colours, and lay the foundations with sapphires. No weapon that is formed against thee shall prosper; and every tongue that shall rise against thee in judgment thou shalt condemn. This is the heritage of the servants of the Lord, and their righteousness is of me, saith the Lord!" INFANTICIDE IN THE SOUTH SEA ISLANDS. THIS practice did not prevail either at the Navigators or Hervey groups; but the extent to which it was carried at the Tahitian and Society Islands almost exceeds credibility. Of this, however, I may enable the reader to form some estimate by selecting a few out of numberless circumstances which have come within my own knowledge. Generally, I may state that, in the last-mentioned group, I never conversed with a female that had borne children prior to the introduction of Christianity, who had not destroyed some of them, and frequently as many as from five to ten. During the visit of the deputation, our respected friend, G. Bennett, Esq., was our guest for three or four months; and, on one occasion, while conversing on the subject, he expressed a wish to obtain accurate knowledge of the extent to which this cruel system had prevailed. Three women were sitting in the room at the time, making European garments, under Mrs W.'s direction; and, after replying to Mr Bennett's inquiries, I said, "I have no doubt but that each of these women have destroyed some of their children." Looking at them with an expression of surprise and incredulity, Mr B. exclaimed, Impossible! such motherly respectable women could never have been guilty of so great an atrocity." Well," I added, "we'll ask them." Addressing the first, I said to her, "Friend, how many children have you destroyed?" She was startled at my question, and at first charged me with unkindness, It is a fact, which I have often observed, and one worthy of special notice, that the influence of religion is manifested, not only in the character, but even in the countenance, by changing the wild and vacant stare of the savage into the mid expression of the Christian. in harrowing up her feelings by bringing the destruc tion of her babes to her remembrance; but, upon hear ing the object of my inquiry, she replied, with a faltering voice, "I have destroyed nine." The second, with eyes suffused with tears, said, "I have destroyed seven ;' and the third informed us that she had destroyed five. Thus three individuals, casually selected, had killed one-and-twenty children!--but I am happy to add, that these mothers were, at the time of this conversation, and continued to be so long as I knew them, consistent members of my church. On another occasion, I was called to visit the wife of a chief in dying circumstances. She had professed Christianity for many years, had learnt to read when nearly sixty, and was a very active teacher in our adult school. In the prospect of death, she sent a pressing request that I would visit her immediately; and, on entering her apartment, she exclaimed, “O, servant of God! come and tell me what I must do." Perceiving that she was suffering great mental distress, I inquired the cause of it, when she replied, "I am about to die, I am about to die." "Well," I rejoined, "if it be so, what creates this agony of mind?" "Oh! my sins, my sins," she cried; "I am about to die." I then inquired what the particular sins were which so greatly distressed her, when she exclaimed, "Oh my children, my murdered children! I am about to die, and I shall meet them all at the judgment-seat of Christ." Upon this I inquired how many children she had destroyed, and, to my astonishment, she replied, "I have destroyed sixteen! and now I am about to die." As soon as my feelings would allow me, I began to reason with her, and urged the consideration that she had done this when a heathen, and during "the times of ignorance, which God winked at ;' but this afforded her no consolation, and again she gave vent to her agonized feelings by exclaiming, "Oh, my children, my children!" I then directed her to "the faithful saying, which is worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners." This imparted a little comfort; and after visiting her frequently, and directing her thoughts to that blood which cleanseth from all sin, I succeeded, by the blessing of God, in tranquillizing her troubled spirit; and she died, about eight days after my first interview, animated with the hope "that her sins, though many, would all be forgiven her." And what, but the Gospel, could have brought such consolation? I believe that, without the grand truth of pardon by the blood of Christ, I might have reasoned with her from that time to the present in vain. But I forbear all comment; for if such facts fail to demonstrate the value of missions, no observations of mine will do so. Frequently have our feelings been most powerfully excited, at the examination of our school children; and scenes more affecting than some which have been witnessed on such occasions it is scarcely possible to conceive. One of these, which occurred at my own station at Raiatea, I will briefly describe. Upwards of six hundred children were present. A feast was prepared for them, and they walked through the settle ment in procession, most of them dressed in European garments, with little hats and bonnets made by those very parents who would have destroyed them, had not Christianity come to their rescue. The children added much to the interest of the day, by preparing flags with such mottos as the following: "What a blessing the Gospel is!" "The Christians of England sent us the Gospel." "Had it not been for the Gospel, we should have been destroyed as soon as we were born." On some, texts of Scripture were inscribed: "Behold the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the world!" "Suffer little children to come unto me," and other similar passages. Insensible indeed must he have been, who could have witnessed such a scenė without the liveliest feelings of delight. After pro- one occasion, bewailing most bitterly the destruction of her children; when a woman who happened to be present, and who was acquainted with the fact of the child's disinterment, astonished and overwhelmed her with the announcement, that her daughter had been saved, and was yet living at Aimeo. A short time after receiving this extraordinary intelligence, she sailed to Aimeo, and on reaching the shore, hurried with excited feelings to the house of her relatives, and as she approached it, beheld with wonder and delight, a fine young girl standing in the doorway. At once she recognised her own image in the countenance of the child. It was her daughter. She clasped her to her bosom ; but I must leave imagination to fill up the scene as she exclaimed, "Rejoice with me, for this my daughter was dead and is alive again." The mother is gone to her rest, but her daughter is, at the present time, an active teacher in our schools, and a consistent member of a Christian Church! The reasons assigned for this inhuman practice afford an affecting comment upon that passage, "The dark places of the earth are full of the habitations of cruelty." The first cause alleged was their wars. These were so frequent, sudden, and desolating, that mothers have often told me, that to avoid the horrors and distress thus entailed on those who had families, they destroyed many of their children. A second cause, as we have already intimated, was inequality of station. If a woman of rank was united to a man of inferior grade, the destruction of two, four, or six infants was required, to raise him to an equality with her; and when this had been effected, the suc ceeding children were spared. A third reason adduced for the practice was, that nursing impaired the personal attractions of the mother, and curtailed the period during which her beauty would continue to bloom. The modes by which they perpetrated this deed of darkness were truly affecting. Sometimes they put a wet cloth upon the infant's mouth; at others, they pinched their little throats until they expired. A third method was to bury them alive. And a fourth was, if possible, still more brutal The moment the child was born, they broke the first joints of its fingers and toes, and then the second. It the infant survived this agonizing process, they dislocated its ankles and the wrists; and if the powers of endurance still continued, the knee and elbow joints were then broken. This would generally terminate the tortures of the little sufferer; but if not, they would resort to the second method of strangulation. We had a servant in our employ for fifteen years, who previously performed infanticide as her trade; and we have many times listened with feelings of the deepest agony, while she has described the manner in which she perpetrated the horrid deed. This scene occurred in my own place of worship. I saw the man, and heard him utter these expressions. I shall leave the fact to speak for itself. Many other instances equally affecting might be added, but I shall content myself with mentioning but one more. This related to a chief woman, who had been united in marriage to a man of inferior rank; and it was the universal custom to destroy the children of such an union. The first babe was born and put to death. The father wished the second to be spared, but the mother, and the mother's relatives, demanded its destruction. The third was a fine girl. The father pleaded and entreated that it might be saved, for his bowels yearned over it, but the mother, and the mother's relatives again carried their point, and the babe was doomed to die. One of the numerous modes of infanticide was, to put the babe in a hole covered with a plank to keep the earth from pressing it, and to leave it there to perish. This method was adopted in the present instance. The father happened to be in the mountains at the time of the child's birth and interment; but, on his return, he hastened to the spot, opened the grave, and finding that the babe was not dead, he took her up, and gave her in charge to his brother and sister, by whom she was conveyed to the island of Aimeo, about seventy miles distant, where they trained her up. The husband died, without having informed his wife that their daughter was still alive. After Christianity was embraced, the mother was, on This chief was an arioi of the highest rank, and the laws of his class required the destruction of all his children. In this infamous society there were a variety of orders, not unlike those which spel. Whether you find them upon the pinnacle among the freemasons. What a truly affecting picture do these facts exhibit of human nature, where the light of divine truth has not beamed upon its darkness-where the religion of the Gospel has not exercised its benign influence! They show that the sun may shine for ages, with all bis boundless beneficence, and yet fail to kindle in man a spirit of benevolence; that the earth may pour forth her abundance, and not teach man kindness; that the brute creation, impelled only by instinct, may exhibit parental fondness, and man fail to learn the lesson. By no species of ingenuity could we instruct the beasts of the field thus barbarously to destroy their Even young. the ferocious tiger prowls the forest for their support, and the savage bear will fearlessly meet death in their defence. But the facts now stated are only in harmony with innumerable others, which prove that, in every place, and under all circumstances, men need the Gos civilization, or in the vortex of barbarism; inhabitir the densely populated cities of the East, or roaming the wilds of an African wilderness; whether on the wide continent, or the fertile islands of the sea; surrounded by the icy barriers of the poles, or basking beneath a tropical sun; all need the Gospel; and nothing but the Gospel can elevate them from the degradation into which they have been sunk by superstition and sin. You may introduce among them the arts and sciences, and by these means refine their taste, and extend the sphere of their intellectual vision; you may convey to them our unrivalled constitution, modified and adapted to their peculiar circumstances, and thus throw a stronger safe-guard around their persons and property, and elevate them from a state of barbarous vassalage, to the dignity and happiness of a free people; but if you withhold the Gospel, you leave them still under the dominion of a demoralizing and sanguinary superstition, aliens from God, and ignorant of the great scheme of redemption through his Son. Let science, then, go with her discoveries; and philosophy with her wisdom; and law, with her equitable sanctions and social benefits; and let them exert their united influence to bless and elevate our degraded world; but let it be the honour and ambition of the Christian to convey that glorious Gospel, by which alone the regeneration and happiness of mankind can be fully and permanently secured. From Williams' Narrative of Missionary Enterprises in the South Sea Islands,a book which abounds in the most interesting description of facts which came under the Author's notice during a long residence in the Islands. THE APPALLING NATURE OF DEATH, AND THE BELIEVER'S SUPPORT UNDER IT: A DISCOURSE.* BY THE REV. W. S. BLACKWOOD, Minister of the Scotch Church, Maryport, Cumberland. "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil; for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me."-PSALM xxiii. 4. I HAVE often addressed you on the subject of death, and I have done so, because, while in itself it is more important than any other, there is none on which our thoughts are more unwilling to dwell. Every one who has passed the very limits of infancy knows, with undoubted certainty, that he is appointed to die. And yet, with this knowledge, it is matter of familiar observation that death is to few the theme of solemn and habitual consideration. It ranks amongst the articles of their belief, so that there is, perhaps, no one so vain and foolish as to indulge the hope of an exemption from the operations of that law which consigns our bodies to darkness and to dust. And yet, with this general conviction which mankind entertain of their mortality, how lanentably small is the number of those who dwell on this topic so frequently and with such devout and earnest thought, as to invest it with a salutary influence over their mind, and to give to it a practical command over their habits and their history. There is an innate aversion in our nature to the consideration of death. It exhibits to the eye of the imagination so many images of sorrow and of gloom. It is accompanied with so many circumstances calculated to revolt and even to sicken our • Preached on occasion of the death of Robert Aitkin, a bio graphical sketch of whom appears in our present number. sensibilities. It suggests to us so much from which we shrink with instinctive recoil, and on which our mind cannot dwell without being impressed with sentiments of sad and melancholy interest, that we are eager to make our escape from this dark contemplation, and if, at any time, it is obtruded on us with a disturbing effect, we seek to dismiss it, and to efface its impressions amid the bustle and levities of the world. But, is it proper or reasonable that this subject should meet such treatment at our hand? Death is, beyond all question, a matter to us of the very last importance. It removes us from the scene of our present existence. It breaks our connection for ever with the things of time. It closes that period of trial and probation which the providence of our wise and gracious Creator has here appointed us to fulfil. It introduces us to that world of spirits for which we were originally destined, and where our doom will be irrevocably determined, according to the principles which have guided us, and the conduct we have maintained in this preparatory stage of our being. And is it proper or reasonable, then, that an event so momentous in itself, and whose consequences expand themselves over the whole range of a coming eternity, should be dismissed from our thoughts as unwelcome and offensive, and so seldom dwelt upon with solemn and earnest consideration? Did all of us cease to exist when our breath has departed,—did the infliction of that stroke which terminates our present life involve in it the subversion of our every interest, were there no other region to which we were removed, and had we nothing, therefore, to anticipate beyond the period which closes our eyes on this sublunary scene, then would it be the part of wisdom and of prudence to avert our minds from the contemplation of death, and to say, "Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die." Yes! but there is in these frail and short-lived tenements of flesh and blood a soul of immortality, which death cannot touch. Our spirits are destined to survive the dissolution of this corporeal frame-work, and to expatiate with improved and renovated powers over another and a wider scene. This is not the place of our abiding residence. We are here only travelling to our true and everlasting home, and according to the sentiments we have cherished, and the part we have performed in this lower world, will death award us our habitation either in the paradise of God, or in the regions of darkness and despair. And why, then, should we be so unwilling to entertain the thought of an event of such weighty and affecting interest? Why should we hurry away our minds from the contemplation of it, as from an object of severe and invincible aversion? Why, amid the busy engrossment of our powers with the concerns of earthliness, should we bury ourselves in so profound an oblivion of that catastrophe which sets us loose from every present interest, and which transfers us to the realms of immortality? Will the terror of those circumstances with which it is accompanied, or the dark and gloomy aspect under which our fancy represents it, justify us in shutting up every avenue by which the thought of it can gain access to our minds, while in itself it is so solemn, and in its results so momentous? O the wretched infatuation of man! to slumber away his days in an almost total oblivion of death, and to give all his attention and his care to the interests of this vain and perishing world! Let us advert, I. To the description which is here given us of death. world, but it will never brighten up the darkness of the grave. The tumult of business will continue to be heard, but it will never break the silence of the grave. The seasons will continue to roll in grateful succession over the face of nature, and the earth will smile with its accustomed beauty, but they carry with them no charm to soften or relieve the desolation of the grave. Our dwellings will still be peopled with inhabitants, and our streets be crowded with a living population, but we have been cast out from the habita tions of men, and lie cold and insensible in the dark and lonesome grave. This is an object of sad and melancholy contemplation, to bid adieu to all which now occupies and interests our heart, to be cut off from among men as though we had never been, and to be shut up in that narrow everlasting oblivion! "Lord, make me to know mine end, and the measure of my days, what it is; that I may know how frail I am. Behold, thou hast made my days as an hand-breadth, and mine age is as nothing before thee; verily every man at his best state is altogether vanity. Surely every man walketh in a vain show; surely they are disquieted in vain: he heapeth up riches, and knoweth not who shall gather them." The Psalmist does not, by any means, profess an insensibility to the solemnity of this event, or speak of it as if there were no terrors accompanying it. On the contrary, the very description which he gives of it supposes that it presented to him a formidable aspect, and that, in itself, he regarded it as the proper object of dread and alarm. That man must have reached the last stage of moral insensibility, or must have extin-house, where we shall slumber in the dust of guished the natural sentiments of his heart by imbibing the opinions of an infidel philosophy, whose mind the thought of death does not strike with dismay, and on whom it does not produce an impression of deepest solemnity. The Psalmist here paints it in the darkest and most gloomy colours, and if he rises superior to the apprehension of it, it is because he entertained the conviction that he was shielded by the arm of Omnipotence from the dangers which attended him, and because he enjoyed the communications of his grace. In whatever light we view death, it is clothed, to our imagination, with terror, and is calculated to excite in us emotions of reverence and awe. If we regard it as the termination of our earthly existence, even in this aspect of it, it is an object of sad and melancholy contemplation, and touches the springs of inward sensibility. It breaks those numerous and powerful ties which bind us to our present abode, and puts a final period to all our present joys and hopes. There is in our nature a principle of attachment to the things around us; our hearts contract a liking and an affinity to a scene with which we have long been familiar. Even though it may once have carried no charm to our inward affections, though we could look on it without one emotion of admiration or delight, yet if there be nothing in it to pain or revolt our sensibilities, we will, by the very circumstance of dwelling in the midst of it, and having the interest of our mind ever kept awake with its objects and events, entertain for it some measure of regard, and melt into sadness when we are called to bid it a lasting farewell. We all experience the operation of this principle in respect to that world which is the scene of our present residence. Our mind and our feelings have become familiarized to its objects; they are established in our affections, and we have the practical impression that, in the midst of them, is our proper home. At death, however, every tie which binds us to earth must be rent asunder; every pursuit which had hitherto occupied our attention here will be brought to a termination, and the busy and restless activity of earthly passions will be hushed into perpetual repose. The sun will continue to enlighten our But death also breaks the nearest and the dearest ties of earthly relationship, and this is one of its most melancholy and forbidding features. We must then leave those to whom our hearts were united by the strongest sympathies of reciprocal endearment, and "with whose existence our own seemed inseparably entwined." It is death alone which can extinguish the warmth of friendship, and seal up the springs of tender sensibility. Until the pulse of life has ceased to throb, the genial current of affection will never cease to flow towards its objects, and to melt the bosom in kindliness and good will. And how severe, then, the anguish which it must occasion, to be hurried away from the embrace of those, in the cordiality of whose attachment our hearts could ever repose, and whose presence and intercourse shed a warm and cheerful light over the path of our earthly history! It may be, a parent must abandon the offspring of his love, who are ready to receive "his parting breath, and to close his beamless eye," to the mercy of a selfish world, in ignorance whither the current of life may carry them, or what protection may be afforded them against its corrupt and ensnaring power. It may be a child, who is bidding a last farewell to the parents who watched his infant slumbers, who were the faithful and devoted guardians of his youth, and whose countenance was ever bright with the smile of kindness and benignity towards him. It may be a brother or a sister, cut down in the flower of their youth, and torn from a weeping family, amid the sympathies of whose friendship they had ever been nursed, and by whom they had been trained in the way which leads to God and immortality. O there is no sorrow like unto this sorrow, to leave behind us the obiects of our warmest and |