What is true of great things is true of small. Private life has its Philips, and Alexanders, and Cæsars, without number, who are striving, with unwearied diligence, for the attainment of a commanding reputation, or brilliant establishments, or ascendency of station. The mere moralist can do little more than condemn their folly, and weep over it. But the Christian may surely be taught, by such examples, a lesson of far higher wisdom; and, touched with a sense of his own weakness, may learn to resign himself, without regret and without fear, into the hands of his beneficent Creator.

The necessity of submission is, in the nature of things, proportional to the infirmities of those who are called on to submit. All agree, even they who are the least disposed to exalt the parental authority, that in early childhood implicit obedience must be exacted. Let the propriety of submission to God be measured, then, by the ignorance and corruption of man. Yet, how inconsistent are we ! Few, perhaps, read the history of our first parents without feeling amazed at their folly, in forfeiting so great happiness for the pleasure of a single transgression. But what was their presumption compared with our own? Their understandings were not obscured by passions, warped by prejudices, or contracted by ignorance and neglect. We have derived from them a corrupt nature, and our faculties are so weak, that it is with difficulty we discover a few things immediately around us; yet we are fearless and confident as they, and ready continually to

hazard the same fatal experiment which they too boldly hazarded, and "brought death into the world, and all our woe."

Submission is a considerable branch of true faith. It is the Apostle's charge against the unbelieving Jews, that " going about to establish their own righteousness, they had not submitted themselves to the righteousness of God." They thought they were perfectly instructed in the way of salvation. They confided in their own wisdom, and the wisdom of their scribes and doctors; and they refused to come, as little children, to learn wisdom from those who were appointed of God to declare it. Thus it is with us in respect of the varying events of this life. They who, by the grace of God, have been instructed, from his word and their own experience, in the ceaseless providence of his government; who fully believe that his eyes are over all, "running to and fro throughout the earth;" are daily more and more disposed to resign into his hands all their ways, their dearest hopes and fondest wishes; fully persuaded that his wisdom and loving kindness will never fail them; and that he will find a way, even for the fulfilment of their earthly desires, if it be meet that they should be accomplished. Nor is it presumption to say, that an entire submission to the will of God, and a cheerful committal of all our concerns to the disposition of his good providence, is the course which true wisdom prescribes for the attainment of the best temporal blessings. "Humble yourselves under the mighty

hand of God, that he may exalt you in due time; casting all your care upon him, for he careth for you." "Be careful for nothing; but in every thing, by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known unto God." "The eyes of the Lord are over the righteous, and his ears are open unto their prayer." Those, on the other hand, who though they may have a general belief in the promises of God, have not attained to that practical confidence which would enable them, with singleness of heart, to resign all things to his disposal, are apt to "go about to establish their good," much as the Jews did to establish their righteousness. They have too great confidence in their own wisdom; and so do not, as heartily and entirely as they ought, "submit themselves" to the wisdom of God. And what must be the issue? Their schemes, when most successful, want their best blessing; and, if they fail, are without consolation. The error is, indeed, far less fatal than that of the unbelieving Jews, but it is scarcely less instructive.

This paper has insensibly grown to a considerable length; and the patience of my readers may perhaps be exhausted, though the subject is not. It would, however, be unpardonable to conclude without saying something of the spiritual blessings which God has ordained to accompany true submission, and of the heavenly delight which attends it.

Trials and afflictions might well have been ap

his dispensations, secret or manifest, gentle or corrective, are ready, like guardian angels, to watch over them, and lead them safely in the right way, or call them back when they are wandering from it. But God they know not. They know themselves, their appetites, and passions. They know the

world abounding on every side with allurements to gratification and though age after age has testified to its vanity, and parents have still transmitted to their children the history of their own disappointments, the hopeless race is for ever renewed, and men follow after happiness in every direction, except that by which they might attain it.

Yet some there are, (in this happy land we may reasonably hope there are very many,) who by the mercy of God have been made sensible of the general error; and who feel that true good can only be found, by re-ascending towards that holy light, which cheered the blessed region whence our first parents wandered down into this land of shadows. These, surely, are deeply sensible of their own blindness; they have lamented their past follies; they have felt the blessedness of drawing near to God as to their reconciled Father; and they desire above all things to be for ever subject to his guidance and government. Yes, certainly, these are their settled feelings, their deliberate wishes. Were it otherwise, how could they reasonably believe themselves to be led by the Spirit of truth! And yet, even among the truly pious there are probably very few, who always preserve an equal temper of

mind amidst the changes and chances of this world. Some are agitated by their own distresses. Some are moved to surprize and grief at the afflictions which befall those who are most dear to them.. And there are moments, perhaps (they should be only moments,) when even the most experienced Christian, though he may bow with unresisting submission under the hand of God, can scarcely lift up an eye of gratitude, or kiss with filial love the rod that chastens him.

It is neither to be expected nor desired, that we should become insensible to our own sufferings, or to those of others. He who is fainting in pain or sickness would think himself but mocked, by being told that he must throw aside his weakness, and rise superior to such infirmities. Nor is it by any means the nature of true religion to diminish our tenderness towards others. On the contrary, it opens the springs of every gentle feeling, and calls forth to new life and vigour every generous affection. Yet, notwithstanding this, it cannot be denied that we are far too apt to be dejected under the misfortunes which befal ourselves; and sometimes, perhaps, while our own sorrows are sustained with fortitude, we yield to an unbecoming grief for those whose happiness is very dear to us.

Indeed, an exemplary patience under the distresses of our friends is not the first of virtues. Yet it is very possible that a feeling mind may be betrayed into the indulgence of a more vehement sorrow, or a more careful anxiety, for others, than is