weary and heavy laden where to go for rest and solace; that tells the
desolate of a home and inheritance in a land where there is no sorrow;
and bids the sin-sick not despair, for there is mercy in Christ for
all, and God hath no pleasure in the death of the sinner, but would
rather that the wicked turn from the evil of his way and live: it
tells of a love which does not willingly afflict, but when, in
mysterious but unquestionable mercy, it lays the cross upon our
shoulder, it also gives the support of its divine strength, "making
the rough places plain to our feet, and the darkness to be light about
our path." He who bore a cross, "the heaviest cross," can also lighten
the burden of all our trials; and although he may not see good to
remove them, he can remove their oppressive weight by the bestowment
of the spirit of patience, which teaches implicit obedience to our
heavenly Father's will. And now, as the refreshing dew falls silently
and unseen upon the sun-scorched earth, and all nature revives to
renovated life, so did the gentle but powerful influence of the gospel
precepts shed peace and hope upon the heart of this desolate boy.
Trusting in the orphan's God, who has declared "he will never leave
nor forsake those who call upon him," he grew calm as he recalled the
abundant promises of God, and, comforted by the holy assurance they
afforded, his agitation subsided into calmness, and at last he sunk
into a calm and quiet sleep.

The Sabbath morning rose bright and beautiful, and the sacred silence,
evident even in the crowded city--for the usual sounds of labour and
of sport are hushed--was soothing to the sin-wounded spirit of the
poor orphan boy. His first thought on awaking was the remembrance of
his sin; his first work, to ask forgiveness and seek strength for
present duty and future trial; and in the stillness of heavenly
communion he found the peace promised to all who trust in the Lord.