tells them, that such is also the fate to which they must come ;-that the pulse of passion must one day beat low;-that the illusions of time must pass ;-and "that the spirit must return to Him who

gave it." It reminds them, with gentle voice, of that innocence in which life was begun, and for which no prosperity of vice can make any compensation ;—and that angel who is one day to stand upon the earth, and to "swear that time shall "be no more," seems now to whisper to them, amid the hollow winds of the year, what manner of men they ought to be, who must meet that decisive hour.

There is yet another description among those who hear me ;-there is an eventide in human life, a season when the eye becomes dim, and the strength decays, and when the winter of age begins to shed upon the human head its prophetic snow. It is the season of

life to which the present is most analogous; and much it becomes, and much it would profit you, my elder brethren, to mark the instructions which the season brings. The spring and the summer of your days are gone, and with them, not only the joys they knew, but many of the friends who gave them. You have enter ed upon the autumn of your being, and whatever may have been the profusion of your spring, or the warm intemperance of your summer, there is yet a season of stillness and of solitude which the beneficence of Heaven affords you, in which you may meditate upon the past and the future, and prepare yourselves for the mighty change which you are soon to undergo.

If it be thus, my elder brethren, you have the wisdom to use the decaying season of nature, it brings with it consolations more valuable than all the enjoy

ments of former days. In the long retrospect of your journey, you have seen every day the shades of the evening fall, and every year the clouds of winter gather. But you have seen also, every succeeding day, the morning arise in its brightness, and in every succeeding year the spring return to renovate the winter of nature. It is now you may understand the magnificent language of Heaven, ➡it mingles its voice with that of revelation,-it summons you, in these hours when the leaves fall, and the winter is gathering, to that evening study which the mercy of Heaven has provided in the book of salvation: And, while the shadowy valley opens which leads to the abode of death, it speaks of that, hand which can comfort and can save, and which can conduct to those," green pas"tures, and those still waters," where there is an eternal spring for the children of God.

"

SERMON XVII.

ON THE JUBILEE, APPOINTED FOR THE 50TH ANNIVERSARY OF THE KING'S ACCESSION, OCTOBER 25, 1809.

GENESIS xliii. 27, 28.

"And Joseph asked them of their welfare, and said, Is your father well? The old man of whom ye spake, is he yet alive? And they answered, Our father is yet alive. And they bowed down their heads, and made obeisance."

THESE were the words of the patriarch Joseph, one of the most distinguished personages whom we meet with in the early

pa

history of the world, and from whose thetic story the infant mind receives its first impressions of genuine greatness. In the preceding part of the narrative, we feel all the interests which arise from adventure and success. We rejoice in that event by which the inhumanity of his brethren is leading to the punishment it deserves; and while we contemplate, with satisfaction, the hand of Providence which is conducting this interesting story, we yet tremble as we proceed, lest the conceptions we had formed of the cha racter of Joseph, may be lost in his accomplishment of the dread revenge which was then placed in his power. It is the simple, but pathetic question of the text, which resolves all our doubts. The words, "is your father yet alive?" let us at once into his heart. We see a mind which neither injury could harden nor prosperi ty corrupt; which looks back with undi