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The following letters, mostly from the same pen, have been contributed in the hope that what proved comforting to those originally addressed, may be made useful to others under similar circumstances of trial, and their benefit extended in this way.

MY DEAR MRS.

No. 1.

I trust you will acquit me of all intention to violate the sanctity of sorrow, if I venture to give expression to somewhat of the sympathy with which my heart overflows for you and yours, under this overwhelming stroke, and seek to suggest some of those considerations which have silenced my own soul under the inflictions of God's hand, and soothed its sorrows when earthly refuge failed. May the God of all comfort direct my thoughts and guide my pen, and bring home some

word in peace and power to your afflicted mind! Think not that I mean to speak lightly of a loss which I believe you can scarcely exaggerate; oh no, I feel that the chasm is tremendous, one that cannot be contemplated without a shudder; and what must it be to experience it? "Desolate" is the picture drawn by the pencil of truth, of a heart so bereaved, and "desolate," I doubt not, the consciousness under which your spirit writhes: but dear Mrs., "because Thou didst it," made David dumb under the heavy stroke of the Almighty, "because Thou didst it," led him "not to open his mouth," even when the most tender ties of nature were severing: "because Thou didst it," caused Aaron to hold his peace when he beheld his two sons snatched from him by the appalling judgment of the Most High; and "because Thou didst it," will silence the repinings of nature within us, if we will only open the ear of faith to hear it. "Thou," and who is

this?-the God of all our mercies, the God to whom we stand indebted for every drop of blessing that has been mingled in the cup of life;-the God on whom we are dependant for all we still enjoy the God who "gave," and consequently has an undisputed right to "take." O shall we not then even out of the midst of anguish cry, "It is the Lord, let Him do what seemeth Him good" true, "His way is in the sea, and His path in the great waters, and His footsteps are not known," but eternity will discover, what time often. conceals, and in the brightness of that "day without clouds" we shall see, what now we should believe, that "the Lord is righteous in all His ways, and holy in all His works."

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My dear Mrs. it is our duty, our wisdom, our happiness, to turn our eye from the wound to Him who has inflicted it, from the blank to the God who has caused it, to raise our thoughts from this

"howling wilderness," to that world, whose great realities ought to absorb our every interest. This is not our rest, here we may not build. Oh should the trials which impress these truths in language which cannot be misunderstood, only lead us to seek our "portion" where thief cannot enter, or moth destroy: to "set our affections on things above," then shall we have cause to bless our God for every bitter blast, for every sorrow of our way. O what a comfort to know "afflictions spring not from the dust,” to remember that He whose hands were transfixed for us on the accursed tree, presents the cup of sorrow to our lips, mixed by Himself;-He drained it to its very dregs, and such a cup as never mortal yet was given to taste. Oh, as we witness His bloody sweat, as we hear His piercing cry, "if it be possible let this cup pass from me," can we doubt His power to sympathize in our sharp pangs as we writhe under withered hopes, and

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mourn over blasted gourds? He is " faithful and merciful High Priest," touched with the feeling of our infirmities; He does not willingly afflict, it is only "if need be" we are in heaviness, and it is "for our profit," not His pleasure, that He "scourgeth every son that He receiveth." Myriads now before the throne of God, are blessing Him for the hedge of thorns, with which He fenced their wilderness way. “May we hear and heed His rod, and yet find our trials to yield the peaceable fruits of righteousness."

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Yours very truly.

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