not at first which way to turn for comfort, and can scarcely abstain from coming to the conclusion that there can be no more happiness for us in this world. In such circumstances, my friends, and there are few who pass through life without having experienced at least an approach to them, rest from the insupportable burden under which we are groaning, deliverance from the misery in which we are involved, is apt to become the supreme object of our desire. The grave itself assumes an inviting aspect. "Wherefore," we are ready to exclaim, in the beautiful and pathetic, though too desponding language of the afflicted patriarch, "wherefore is light given to him that is in misery, and life to the bitter in soul; who long for death, but it cometh not, and dig for it more than for hidden treasures; who rejoice exceedingly, and are glad when they can find the grave?" "There the wicked cease from troubling; and there the weary be at rest. There the prisoners rest together they hear not the voice of the oppressor. The small and great are there; and the slave is delivered from his master."

A third class of persons, who may be mentioned, as likely to feel a peculiar interest in the prospect of a future rest, are the aged. We are far from being inclined to take a desponding

view of the condition of man in old age. The nature of man is, in this as well as in other respects, admirably suited to the circumstances in which he was intended to be placed. The mind changes with the body. As the bodily activity diminishes, the desires and tastes imperceptibly alter. New pursuits and gratifications succeed to those for which we no longer retain our relish; so that it may well be doubted whether the closing period of a well-spent life be productive of much less real enjoyment, though it be of a somewhat different kind, than the gayest and busiest part of it. Let it be carefully observed, however, that we here speak of a well-spent life only; since much of the happiness of old age must arise from those pleasing reflections on our own part, and that respectful and affectionate treatment on the part of others, which are the natural consequences of an industrious and virtuous employment of our earlier years. After all, under the most favourable circumstances, and it is seldom, indeed, that circumstances are as favourable as we have here represented them, the decline of life is, from the nature of things, attended by some peculiar distresses and discouragements; and where the intellectual and moral powers have not been previously cultivated with more than ordinary care, they are apt to become extremely

irksome, and, indeed, almost insupportable. Even the happiest old man can scarcely look forward to any long continuance of his happiness. In the course of nature, his infirmities must increase upon him. The weight of years, which he already feels too sensibly, must gradually become more oppressive. Can we conceive it possible, then, my friends, that the desire of rest should not frequently arise in his mind? Must he not frequently contemplate with pleasure the prospect of a release, at no distant period, from his multiplying pains and infirmities? Must he not be prepared, with calmness and even with satisfaction, to sink into that peaceful slumber which a benevolent Creator has prepared for him? Must he not listen, with a peculiarly deep and solemn interest, to the mention made by the sacred writer in our text, of a rest that remaineth for the people of God?

There is yet another class of persons for whom the prospect of a future rest, here held out to us, may not unreasonably be expected to possess particular interest. We allude to the tempted. Temptation, my friends, is the lot of humanity. With a view, no doubt, to the more effectual improvement of our nature, and to our exaltation in the scale of being, human life has been made to present little less than an uninterrupted series

of temptations. Perhaps, indeed, the end of human existence, that is, of the existence of a rational being in the circumstances in which we find ourselves upon this earth, can scarcely be expressed more correctly than by saying, that we have been placed here to learn to resist temptation. This being the condition in which we are placed, it is not to be wondered at, if to every man who sincerely and conscientiously endeavours to obey the will of his Creator, so far as he has the means of discovering it, life assumes the character of a perpetual conflict: a conflict, for a time at least, severe and unintermitting, in proportion to the vigour and determination with which it is entered upon. It is a conflict, too, in which an uninterrupted succession of triumphs cannot, in ordinary cases, for a considerable length of time, if ever, be experienced. Defeat may be expected frequently to lead to despondency. When we have failed, indeed, on several successive occasions, it is extremely difficult to resist this feeling. We lose all self-respect and selfconfidence. We are wearied with fruitless efforts. We shrink from a renewal of the conflict. could wish, were it permitted us, to retire from the field, and take refuge in some peaceful solitude. In a word, my brethren, we long, earnestly long, for rest. Who that has ever entered upon a virtuous course is a stranger to these feelings?

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Nor are they by any means confined to its commencement. No man, so long as life and reason remain, is placed beyond the reach of temptation; nor can any man, without presumption, venture to pronounce himself superior to it. In every stage of a virtuous course we are more or less liable to despondency; and often will this feeling be found to rise to such a height in susceptible minds, as to become itself a fault, not less serious than those which have occasioned it. Even where this is not the case, however, perpetual, or at least habitual, watchfulness and resistance can scarcely fail to prove at times irksome to us. Occasional failures discompose and distress us. We are dissatisfied with the past, and anxious about the future. We wish that our trials were over, and that the time of repose were come. In such circumstances, can we be otherwise than consoled and cheered by the announcement before us, that "there remaineth a rest for the people of God"?

We have thus, my brethren, with a view of preparing your minds and our own for receiving with a becoming degree of interest the announcement contained in the text, enlarged a little on the impressions which it might reasonably be expected to produce upon several classes of persons. Are we, then, included in none of these?