frequently does the Sabbath come offering its hours to his overburdened spirit, and opening the very gates of the spiritual Jerusalem, that he may catch a glimpse of the glories within, and be attracted thereto by their power. A Sabbath day's journey nearer to God in knowledge and character, be it ever so short when the Sabbath is past, is an attainment which he can think of with a kind of joy, not to be reached in any worldly success or possession. A Sabbath day's journey nearer to the glorious views which Christ and the Apostles saw; a Sabbath day's journey with the Saviour and his first followers, in spirit and faith; in recognition of God and his righteous ways; in acknowledgment of his presence, his doctrines and laws, his providence and promises, in love and beneficent deeds, in purity of heart, and in amiable and noble life and manners, though but a little way, is a greater accomplishment than the longest stride he ever took toward worldly wealth, or power, or fame.

How much the soul of man attains during his lifetime, by performing wisely, and with the highest aims, every week, a Sabbath day's journey. At the end of a long life, what does the aged man look back upon with more delight than the spiritual progress of by-gone Sabbaths? As his eye runs back over the long chain of days, are not the Sabbaths to his kindling sight as silver or golden links, each after and before its consecutive ones of iron? How much richer is he in his heart, how much nobler is he in his mind, for spiritually journeying in company with holy men, with Christ and the Apostles, for walking and holding communion with

God on the Sabbath days. How invaluable to him are the lessons which he has learned, the views which he has obtained, the hope, trust, serenity, and peace which he has acquired, by making his Sabbath days, days of moral progress and improvement, by making them days of holy employment to his thoughts and his affections.

The Sabbath in a New England city, village, or town, is the brightest and loveliest of days. It is a day of sunshine and blessedness. Its morning dew in summer upon the grass and trees, is like the dew of Hermon ; its noon-day light is like the glory of Olivet; its evening shadows are like the friendly shades of Bethany;* its sunshine in winter sparkles on all the hills and in all the vales. Its music is the harmony of all joyful things, of all the tongues of nature, of clear-toned bells, of organs and human voices. It is a day of the most sacred and the most charming associations. The wanderer from home, in the midst of noise and tumult, where its hours are not properly regarded, turns to it with thoughtfulness and yearning. He thinks with more than ordinary satisfaction of his Sabbath days' journey, with his kindred and friends, to the house of God; of his Sabbath days' journey from darkness to light, from error to truth, from sin to virtue; of his Sabbath day's journey every week towards the highest objects, the worthiest and the noblest ends; and he longs for the time when he may return and re-unite with those who are nearest to him in life, in the Sabbath paths leading to such glorious terminations; and he prays that the people of his native land may never cease to regard and observe in the Christian spirit the holy Day of the Lord.

The Sabbath is a type of heaven. We have on this day a foretaste of heaven. On this day the physical frame finds repose, and the spirit is active in truth and love, in righteousness and peace.

Heaven is an eternal Sabbath. When the soul enters upon that Sabbath, the body, no longer needed, rests and moulders in the dust of the earth; and when the soul enters upon that Sabbath, it is freed from the heavy weights and the crushing and degrading cares and interests of the world, and is drawn forward and upward in the course of improvement leading to perfection. The journey of the Sabbath of heaven extends beyond all bounds, and is pursued with ever increasing wisdom, goodness, and delight. While performing a Sabbath day's journey on earth, we find encourgement in the thought, that the time will come when we shall join the grand procession of souls, moving with free and vigorous steps and with bounding joy on the journey of the Sabbath without an end.

DISCOURSE XXIV.

THOUGHTS ON AUTUMN.

ISAIAH LXIV. 6.

WE ALL DO FADE AS A LEAF.

Whatever Revelation teaches concerning man, Nature in some degree illustrates. Revelation frequently points to Nature as symbolizing in her visible forms the highest lessons of Heaven. Revelation directs us to read a description of our own history in those objects of nature, which now blossom, next bear fruit, and then die-which in their beginning, unfold their tender beauty; in their maturity, show their loveliness in perfection; in the end, fade and fall to decay.

How truly the buds of spring present themselves as the types of our infancy and childhood. How strikingly all the new sounds and signs of life in this fresh season, remind us of the beginning of our existence on earth. The livelier look of tree and shrub, of branch and twig, the swelling and unfolding of the tender buds, the upshooting from the steaming turf of the green blades of grass, represent the new life and beauty with which our life begins. And the soft music

of vernal winds, and the glad laughter of running waters, just let loose from the chains and bands of winter, are like the speech, the shout, and the songs of childhood and youth.

How beautifully the growing things of summer represent our life on earth in the prime of manhood or womanhood. The full-grown leaves resting like heavy burdens on the boughs of the trees in the forest, the new-blown flowers adorning garden and field, the tall rank grass, sprinkled with clover blossoms, white and red, and ready for the mower's scythe, and the taller and ranker corn, fast growing for the reaper's sickle, all these things are the symbols of ourselves in maturity. And the deep, steady music of broad, swollen rivers, and overflowing brooks, and the mighty and perpetual anthem of the vast woods, dark and heavy with foliage, harmonize with the strong, deep tones of man in his day of strength.

How grandly the fruits of Autumn, in all their bulk and weight, in all their richness and sweetness of flavor, in all their loveliness of color, ripen before our eyes as the symbols of our condition when we have answered the noble ends of our life here below. How true it is, that, when a man has lived on earth a long, useful and honorable life, and he stands forth at last among his kind in the silver and golden beauty of age, he is like "a shock of corn fully ripe."

How impressively the dying leaves, the withering flowers and grass, all the drooping and decaying things of October, illustrate the transitoriness of our earthly life-the fading, and withering, and crumbling at