and moral degradation to which the paths of pleasure conduct. On that path you are now entering,-the season opens to you many various sources of enjoyment,—and many a siren voice is prepared to invite you to indulgence and joy. At such a time, let me entreat you to pause, ere you begin your course; ere those habits are acquired which may never again be subdued ;-and ere ye permit the charms of pleasure to wind around your soul their fascinating powers.

Think, with the elevation and generosity. of your age, whether this is the course that leads to honour or to fame ;—whether it was in this discipline that they were exercised, who, in every age, have blessed, or have enlightened the world,whose shades are present to your midnight thoughts, and whose names you cannot pronounce without the tear of gratitude or admiration.

Think, still more, whether it was tothe ends of unmanly pleasure that you were dedicated, when the solemn service of religion first enrolled you in the number of the faithful, and when the ardent tears of your parents mingled with the waters of your baptism. If they live, is it in such paths that their anxious eyes delight to see you tread?If they are no more, is it on such scenes that they can bend their venerated heads from Heaven, and rejoice in the course of their children?

But, far more than all, think, my young friends, on your entrance upon time's eventful journey, whether it was to pursue the course of an idle, a selfish, and an inglorious life, that you were created "in "the image of God,"-and that the inspiration of the Almighty himself gave you understanding?-whether this was the course which the Saviour of the world

pursued, and on which he hath called you "to follow him?"--and whether this is the character of those "spirits made "perfect," who, after having finished the journey upon which you are now entering, "stand before the throne of that "God for ever?"

SERMON XXI.

ON WINTER, AS THE SEASON OF RELI

GIOUS THOUGHT.

PSALM 1xxiv. 17.

"Thou hast made summer and winter."

UPON a former occasion, I addressed myself to the young of our congregation, in reference to that season of amusement which winter generally brings; and I endeavoured to explain to them some of those dangers to which the unrestrained love even of innocent amusement naturally leads, and what are the melancholy effects which it too frequently has, both

upon their future conduct and happi

ness.

There are many others, however, to whom winter arrives, beside the young and the gay-there are other sentiments than those of joy, with which the hearts of many meet its approach; and there are higher instructions which it is fitted to give, than those which youth alone can derive from it. It is to this description of our congregation, to the serious, the thoughtful, and the mature, that I now wish, for a few moments, to address myself; to shew them what are the lessons which they may draw from the appear ances they witness, and to suggest to them some of those reflections which the season naturally awakens, and which it would be wise in us all to render familiar to our minds.

I have before had occasion to observe, that, while the great end of the variation