for the difficult problem of thought has none to aid in its solution now-sbe is alone. Bo desolate; for other fellowships are not for life; they only help to vary her life. Desolate; for none can quite understand her care and grief, and think that she will soon put them ofl' with the weeds and crape.-W. M. S. Ver. 6.-Ooofidenr,e in the Father. "Trusteth in God." Let Timothy remember that in her case experience baa ratified truth. She will need no elaborate arguments for the truth, because- L SHE BAB THE EVIDENTIAL PROOF WITHIN. Did she not in the dark hours fling her arms around her 1''ather's neck ; did she not tell him that she would fear no want, though she felt such change? Did not that trust-simple trust-do her more good than all human words, 1111 kindly letters, all change of place and scene? Others wondered at her, rising up in her poor strength to arrange, to order, to readjust life to means and circumstances, to do her beet for the little flock that she was shepherdess to in the wilderness. II. SHE BAB THE FELLOWSHIP OF PRAYER. Yes, 0 man of tbe world, 0 scorner of truth, 0 soft-spoken atheist, she prays! Makes the air quiver, you say. Hears the echo of her own cry, you say. Bends before an empty throne, you say. It may be you have never felt to need God as she needs him now. Her need is an instinct and an argument; for somehow in this world there is a Divine revealing, call it what you like, that satisfies the desire of every living thing. And she has prayed, and the secret of the Lord has been made known ; and that it is no empty experience, is now to be proven in this way. III. SHE REVEALS ITS POWER BY HEB PERSEVERANCE IN IT. She "cootinueth in prayers and supplications night and day.n Then there must be relief. The burden must be lighter, the load must be easier, the vision must be clearer. None of us continue in that which mocks us. The invisible world is as real as the visible one. We know when there is a whisper within us and an arm around us, and so does she. Surely you would not rob her of her only wealth-her trust. But you cannot. "Night and day." Mark that. She finds in the night an image of her grief. :::ihe finds in the night silence. 'l'he children, if any, are asleep. She whose tears have watered her couch, whose band has reached forth into the empty space, whose every movement would once have awakened solicitude, as of pain, or weariness, or sleeples~ness, is now alone. But not alone; for the lips move and e. great cry goes up: " 0 God, be not far from me I Listen to the voice of my cry, my King e.nd my God. My hea.rt within me is desolate. Hear me out of thy habitation, thou Father of the fatherless, thou Judge of the widow. 1 mourn in my complaint and make a noise. Oh, when wilt thou come to me?" And Go<l does come; e.nd it may help Timothy to know that this gospel which he has to preach is II Di vine living seed, bearing its harvests in the hearts a.ad homes of the eldel'3 e.nd of the widows, We shall see in our uex.t exposition that St. Paul knows that then· are worldly hearts to whom affliction brings no gracious fruit; and if there be a sigh1 on earth more appalling than another, it is the frivolous widow whose very mournin~ is e. pride and a stu,ly, whose manner is that of a pleasure-seeker, e.nd whose heart i, unaffected by the reverences of the memories of love and death. It is very evident that the gospel which Timothy was to teach and preach was no mere creed, no mere perfect ritual or ceremonial, but a religion human and Divine, a religion that anticipate., t~.e changes and sorrows and dangers of every individual life. This Book is a vade- mec11m. Here we go for all the medicines of relief and hope that our poor hume.nit) needs. We shall never outgrow the Book. Its leaves are still for the healing of tb, nations, and it makes lifo calm, restful, and beautiful. How comes it that tDI hav, known the sweetest angels in such guises as these afflictions and bereavements bring·, Yet so it is. Where shall we go? Oh, life has many roads; banditti lurk here anti there, and there are swollen rivers to be forded, and dangerous passes to be entered. How shall we go? With this rod and staff we may go anywhere. If we take a fabk, let it be the ancient stone: if you look therein, strange transformations take place- you ask me what I see 1 Now a sword; now a i'ountain; now a simple loaf of bread, now a touchstone of evil and of good; now a rock high above the waters; now a pilu1 on a dangerous sea; now II pillar rising on the plain of time; now a harp from which ■weetest music breathes; now a pillow-a simple pillow. Cowper puts aside hia own lll THE FIRST EPISTLE TO TIMOTHY, [ce. v. 1-ZI.
' Task' and takea God's Ter..ament; so will we. On these promises of God we will fall asleep.-W. M. S.