And surely this simple tribute to Divine goodness carries with it a solemn message to every reader's heart. How impressively does it declare _uncertainty of life, even in moments of greatest seeming security_. It was when least expecting it, that the foregoing calamities came. And who can tell how soon God may disturb our dreams of security, by the summons to the judgment seat? "We stand in jeopardy every hour." In a world so full of sorrow and evil, we are daily exposed to the visitation of death. And does it not become us, in such circumstances, "to be always ready--to have our loins girt, and our lamps burning, and be like men that wait for the coming of the Lord?" "O that we were wise--that we understood this, that we would consider our latter end." Sailors, above most men, ought especially to cultivate this spirit of habitual preparedness. Their calling preeminently exposes them to peril, and they are found "in deaths oft." The breeze that fills their sails, and wafts them to their destination, may swell into tempest, and become "the breath of the blast of Jehovah's nostrils" for their destruction. The ocean that spreads around them a peaceful pathway to distant lands, may heave into huge and hoary billows, that yawn only to engulf them in its horrid grave. The very shore that greets them with gladness after long absence, may be changed into a scene of fatal shipwreck, and death find them at the very door of supposed deliverance. Who does not feel as he treads the deck of his gallant vessel, that death is lurking near him in every element that lies over, and around, and underneath his feet; and that God is proclaiming, at every moment, in all the voice of nature, "As the Lord liveth, and as thy soul liveth, _there is but a step between thee and death_." And can we be safe, in such circumstances, to live in unpreparedness for that which may meet us the next moment, and must meet us ere long? Or ought we to feel satisfied, in any circumstances, if we be living in a state of enmity with God? What can the sinner do, and whither shall he flee, when judgments overtake him? He cannot look up to a neglected and angry God; he dare not look down upon an undone eternity; nothing remains for him but "a fearful looking for of judgment and of fiery indignation to destroy him as an adversary." Why, oh why, should we live in such a state of defenceless danger--exposed at every accident to the destroying vengeance of heaven? Is not a divine Saviour now offering us not only his protection, but also his propitiation? The merit of his sacrifice is able to screen all who confide in it, not only from temporal danger, but also from eternal destruction. Let us seek our present safety, in acceptance with God, through the blood of Immanuel; and we shall find our security from all future evils in the covert of his covenant. Then, "though we walk in the midst of trouble his right hand will save us," and we shall face every danger with a fearless confidence, while we can exclaim--"The Lord of Hosts is on our side, the God of Jacob is our refuge." For Immanuel shall be "an hiding-place from the wind, and a covert from the tempest, as rivers of waters in a dry place, and as the shadow of a great rock in a weary land."