studied solemnity of look and carriage, serve any end but to made one half of the world merry, and impose upon the other.

Sermon ii.

FRAILTY.

The best of men appear sometimes to be strange compounds of contradictory qualities and, were the accidental oversights and folly of the wisest man,-the failings and imperfections of a religious man,-the hasty acts and passionate words of a meek man; were they to rise up in judgment against them, and an ill-natured judge be suffered to mark in this manner what has been done amiss-what character so unexceptionable as to be able to stand before him? Sermon xxxi.

INSENSIBILITY.

It is the fate of mankind, too often, to seem insensible of what they may enjoy at the easiest rate. Sermon xlii.

UNCERTAINTY.

There is no condition in life so fixed and permanent as to be out of danger, or the reach of change: and we all may depend upon it, that we shall take our turns of wanting and desiring. By how many un

foreseen causes may riches take wing!The crowns of princes may be shaken, and the greatest that ever awed the world have experienced what the turn of the wheel can do. That which hath happened to one man may befall another; and, therefore, that excellent rule of our Saviour's ought to govern us in all our actions,-Whatsoever you would that men should do to you, do you also to them likewise.-Time and chance happen to all; and the most affluent may be stripped of all, and find his worldly comforts like so many withered leaves dropping from him.

THE DEAD ASS.

Sermon xli.

And this, said he, putting the remains of a crust into his wallet-and this should have been thy portion, said he, hadst thou been alive to have shared it with me. 1 thought, by the accent, it had been an apostrophe to his child; but 'twas to his ass, and to the very ass we had seen dead on the road, which had occasioned La Fleur's misadventure. The man seemed to lament it much; and it instantly brought into my mind Sancho's lamentation for his; but he did it with more true touches of nature.

The mourner was sitting on a stone bench at the door, with the ass's pannel and its

bridle on one side, which he took up from time to time-then laid them down-looked at them and shook his head. He then took his crust of bread out of his wallet again, as if to eat it; held it some time in his hand-then laid it upon the bit of his ass's bridle-looked wistfully at the little arrangement he had made—and then gave a sigh.

The simplicity of his grief drew numbers about him, and La Fleur among the rest, whilst the horses were getting ready; as I continued sitting in the post-chaise, I could see and hear over their heads.

-He said he had come last from Spain, where he had been from the furthest borders of Franconia; and had got so far on his return home, when his ass died. Every one seemed desirous to know what business could have taken so old and poor a man so far a journey from his own home.

It had pleased Heaven, he said, to bless him with three sons, the finest lads in all Germany; but having in one week lost two of them by the small-pox, and the youngest falling ill of the same distemper, he was afraid of being bereft of them all; and made a vow, if Heaven would not take him from him also, he would go in gratitude to St. Jago, in Spain.

When the mourner get thus far on his story, he stopped to pay nature her tribute -and wept bitterly."

He said Heaven had accepted the conditions, and that he had set out from his cottage with this poor creature, who had been a patient partner of his journey-that it had eat the same bread with him all the way, and was unto him as a friend.

Every body who stood about heard the poor fellow with concern-La Fleur offered him money-the mourner said he did not want it-it was not the value of the ass -but the loss of him.-The ass, he said, he was assured, loved him-and, upon this, told them a long story of a mischance upon their passage over the Pyrenean mountains, which had separated them from each other three days; during which time the ass had sought him as much as he had sought the ass, and they had neither scarce eat or drank till they met.

Thou hast one comfort, friend, said 1, at least in the loss of the poor beast; I'm sure thou hast been a merciful master to him.

Alas! said the mourner, I thought so when he was alive-but now he is dead, I think otherwise. I fear the weight of myself and my afflictions together have been too much for him- hey have shortened the

poor creature's days, and I fear I have them to answer for.-Shame on the world! said I to myself Did we love each other as this poor soul but loved his ass 'twould be something. Sentimental Journey.

HUMOURING IMMORAL APPETITES.

The humouring of certain appetites, where morality is not concerned, seems to be the means by which the Author of nature intended to sweeten this journey of life, and bear us up under the many shocks and hard jostlings, which we are sure to meet with in our way. And a man might, with as much reason, muffle up himself against sunshine and fair weather, -and at other times expose himself naked to the inclemencies of cold and rain, as debar himself of the innocent delights of his nature, for affected reserve and melancholy.

It is true, on the other hand, our passions are apt to grow upon us by indulgence, and become exorbitant, if they are not kept under exact discipline, that by way of caution and prevention, 'twere better, at certain times, to affect some degree of needless reserve, than hazard any ill consequences from the other extreme.

Sermon xxxvii.