the compass line of his, and nobly range those sequestered haunts—­those delightful fields of mental felicity, where his finest affections never penetrated.  Let her heart once become fixed upon its darling object, and it is immaterial in what situation in life we contemplate her—­whether prosperous or adverse, we behold the same unshaken constancy, the same bright and burning flame.  Her love to her children is pure as the dew-drops of the morning, high as the heavens and unchanging as the sun.  It scorns dictation, bids defiance to oppression, and never for one moment loses sight of its object.  No disappointments that cross her path, no scenes of adverse fortune that darken her sky, can wrench it from her grasp, obscure it from her vision, or tear assunder the silken cord that binds it to her heart.

The truth of these remarks we see verified in that unwearied watchfulness and care, which she exercises over her children in supplying their countless, and ever varied little wants; in allaying their little griefs, in soothing their tender hearts by the soft whispers of encouragement and love; in hushing them to repose and in watching over the slumbers of their pillow.  Are her children exposed to danger, and full in her view?  Then no devouring flame, that wraps her dwelling in destruction—­no rolling surges that lash the foaming main, can, in such a moment of peril, over-awe her spirit, or deter her from rushing into the very jaws of death to save them.  Are they sick?  Sleepless she sits beside their bed, and watches every breath they draw.  Are they racked with pain?  Her soul inhales the pang; and freely drinks at the same fount of agony, and breathes over them the prayer of mercy.  Love is that attribute in her nature to which all the others are subservient.  It is the shrine at which they all bow, the centre to which they all gravitate.  If her children do wrong, she freely forgives.

Has God given the mother all these noble affections, and does he feel less to his helpless, sinful and erring children?  Let God answer—­“Can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should not have compassion on the son of her womb?  Yea, they may forget, yet will not I forget thee.”

[Concluded in our next.]

SERMON XVIII

“And be ye kind one to another, tender hearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ’s sake hath forgiven you.”  Ephesians iv. 32.

In our last, we showed that that compassion, tenderness, and love of our Father in heaven, are the origin of all the sublime affections in the human bosom, and from this acknowledged fact, have shown that he is infinitely more regardful of the welfare of his offspring than the tender mother, with whom he compares himself; is of the welfare of her sucking child.  We now resume the subject.