SERMON XIII. STEPHEN. ACTS VII. 59. LORD JESUS, RECEIVE MY SPIRIT. WHEN it was said, last Sabbath, that this series of discourses on Christ a Friend would be closed this morning by the contemplation of the dying Stephen, the text being then selected, and much of the sermon written, little did we think that the text and sermon would receive appropriateness and illustration from the death of my child. On each of the four Sabbaths preceding the last, two of these discourses had been preached; and, but for the accidental presence of a friend who preached for me, this discourse would have been delivered last Sabbath afternoon. Thus this sermon was reserved for to-day.* Were it not for the effect upon me of this undesigned coincidence, I should have kept silence this morning; but the Saviour and Friend of my little child, perhaps, has so ordered, that these efforts to honor him and commend * November 26, 1853. him to your love should have a seal of his approbation in this providential conjuncture of circumstances, which enables me, alas! at what bitter cost, from an experience which they only know who have felt it, more effectually to prevail on you to make him your Friend; and thus that sweet prophecy and promise respecting the times of Christ may be fulfilled in you "And a little child shall lead them." May we but persuade you to love the Lord Jesus Christ, and thus may we save the souls of our people, let us suffer in any way which a merciful God may choose. It is a trial to speak in public with excruciated feelings of that which has made us suffer. "Though I speak, my grief is not assuaged, and though I forbear, yet what am I eased?" The appropriateness of the text to these circumstances constrains me to make this sermon, which was mostly prepared a week ago, enforce its doctrine by preaching it to-day. Now that I have brought myself to speak of this affliction, hear me a moment with regard to things suggested by it. That family burying-place now contains an infant's grave, by the side of another grave where the mother of seven of my children sleeps. That burying-place, with its one mound, has been a solitary spot till now; but now, "two or three are gathered together" there in Christ's name; for a little child seems to count for more than one in the family and in the grave. Solitary as the place has been, who SERMON XIII. STEPHEN. ACTS VII. 59. LORD JESUS, RECEIVE MY SPIRIT. WHEN it was said, last Sabbath, that this series of discourses on Christ a Friend would be closed this morning by the contemplation of the dying Stephen, the text being then selected, and much of the sermon written, little did we think that the text and sermon would receive appropriateness and illustration from the death of my child. On each of the four Sabbaths preceding the last, two of these discourses had been preached; and, but for the accidental presence of a friend who preached for me, this discourse would have been delivered last Sabbath afternoon. Thus this sermon was reserved for to-day.*re it not for the effect upon me of this undesigne I should have kept silence this mo Saviour and Friend of my little chil ordered, that these efforts to honor of you that has such a spot has not found it a place for prayer? By that lone grave, what may you suppose has been the burden of my soul? If I meet cer heaven, I will tain members of this congregation in tell them for whom I specially prayed; but let me say that, kneeling on that spot where I expect to be buried, I have found my thoughts powerfully drawn from every thing else to this, -I have found myself praying for nothing so earnestly as for this, that all this flock, calling some of them by name, might be saved in the day of the Lord Jesus. If our afflictions do not make us selfish and contracted, they greatly enlarge our affections; we love those who have suffered or are liable to suffer; and if God has sustained us, we wish to comfort others with the comfort wherewith we ourselves are comforted of God." Mental sufferings, moreover, have given me new impressions of the holiness of God; his power to inflict pain; his ability to look on and see us suffer, to accomplish his purpose of mercy or judgment; the infinite blessedness of a state of reconciliation and love between him and us through his dear Son; the anguish which there must be in sufferings which are punishment, and not discipline; eternal bereavements of kindred, especially of parents and children; the happiness of that state where all the joys of which our hearts are capable here, meet, to be purified and to be increased; and the terrible meaning of those |