decays of nature, the loss of old contemp friends, and the difficulty of mixing with a yo generation, all tend to lessen our relish fo world to wean us from it, and teach us mor more to depend on that happiness hereafter, we cannot hope to find here.

ANOTHER resemblance, nearly allied t last, between a journey and our passage th life, arises from the different manner, in its different stages affect us.When we set out on a journey, fresh, and full of s all is new to us-every thing amuses and tains us the country around-the chan scene the variety of objects. But whe have travelled long, and are become we beaten-when we have experienced the co round and inconveniences of all travellers begin to be tired with the tediousness of journey-nothing has its relish-the nove over the fatigue remains-every count

pass through, becomes little more, than the repetition of the same scene: we hasten through it; and have no pleasure, but in the hope of getting home apace.

Just such is our journey-at least it onght to be-through life. At first, At first, during the warmth and inexperience of youth, every thing strikes us with pleasure. The world is new to us our spirits are high our passions are strong-the gaieties of life get hold of us-and it is happy, if we can enjoy them with moderation and innocence. Now and then, we meet a rebuke from the world: but we lay it not to heart-youth is prone to forget untoward circumstances and other objects catch our attention-But as years come onas the inconveniences of life increase, and the satisfactions arising from it diminish; we grow fatigued with so tiresome a march; and if we are those strangers and pilgrims upon earth, of whom the text speaks, we begin to think with pleasure of finishing our earthly toil; and feel a holy joy in the thought of resting from our labours in God's good time; and of being received quietly, and peaceably into our everlasting home.

FROM these inconveniences, which meet us in every stage, another resemblance arises; the last I

shall

What we expect in a journey is mere ref ment to enable us to proceed. If our inn be entirely what we wish, we bear it easily: it little consequence: it is the habitation only night. In the morning we are gone; and a stages more will carry us home, where the fa of our journey will soon be forgotten.

Thus it is thus at least it should be-in passage to our heavenly home.Many pe have no idea of a heavenly home. Of them Is not. They must, if they chuse it, wander abo this world, without any aim, till they drop their graves; and must take the consequenc But they, who set their faces towards the hea ly Jerusalem; and hope, in God's good time arrive at that blessed end of their travels, will forward to it with cheerfulness and joy; and bless with holy hope the prospect of that happi which there awaits them. They will always in mind, that this world is only a state of tria preparation-an inn-a mere stage towards

everlasting home. There only they expect ease after their painful travel-there only they expect real pleasure and heartfelt joy. The world may amuse them; but on their arrival at their great home only, they hope for solid happiness. -Happy indeed are they, who can bring themselves to this blessed state-who can look with tender pity on the world around them, immersed in all the folly and madness of its delusive joys; and can with hearts full of tranquillity, and holy hope, thank God, they are now on the point of being removed from a scene, in which they take so little delight.

THUS, my brethren, I have explained to you that beautiful and instructive allusion of travelling, as the text expresses it, like strangers and pilgrims on the earth. If then life is a journey, and can be compared so properly to nothing else, let us consider it as such.

In the first place, let us not set our hearts upon any thing in it. In a journey many pleasing objects, as we pass along, strike our fancysplendid houses-beautiful countries-rich lands, and well-furnished pastures: but we set our hearts on none of these things.Why do we not set our hearts upon them ?-Because we know

VOL. I.

H

know they are not ours.

We know, we only pass

ridiculous, we are well

by them. It would be
convinced, to set our affections on what we can-
not possess.

And is not this just the case of the things of this world? Do a few days, or a few months, or a few years, give us any more real property in these things, than if they were the visions only of an hour?-Let us then at least be consistent. If we do not set our hearts on the beautiful things we see on a journey, because we cannot possess them; let us for the same reason withhold our affections from the things of this world. We know we can possess neither of them. What is possession? Nothing, surely, of which we may be deprived in a moment, can deserve that name.

IF, again, life is a journey, let us not loiter in it. In our worldly journies at least, where we are earnestly bent on any business of importance, we keep constantly going on. Whether the sun beam hot upon us, or whether the storm gather close behind, still we proceed.-Why should we do less in our heavenly journey? Let us then urge our way. Let us not be misled by trifles,