sures; when the spirits, which had been forced up, as by some intoxicating drug, to an unnatural height, subside into profound dejection. What increases the evil is, that it is not among the infirm, and the aged, but among the young, the gay, and the prosperous, who ought to be reputed the happiest men, that this distaste of life most frequently prevails.

When persons of this description, in their peevish and splenetic hours, exclaim, My soul is weary of my life, let them know, let them be assured, that this is no other than the judgment of God overtaking them for their vices and follies. Their complaints of misery are entitled to no compassion; nay, they are sinful, because they arise from a sinful cause; from a mind broken and debased by luxury and corruption. They are the authors of their own misery, by having thrown away on the follies of the world those powers which God had bestowed on them for nobler ends.-Let them return to the duties of men and Christians. Let them retreat from frivolity, and abstain from excess. Let them study temperance, moderation, and self-command. By entering on a virtuous and manly course of action, and applying to the honourable discharge of the functions of their station, they will acquire different views. They will obtain more real enjoyment of life, and become more willing to prolong it. But, after the warnings which God has given them of their misbehaviour by the inward misery they suffer, if they still continue to run the same intemperate round, and to drain pleasure to the last dregs, it shall come to pass, that they who now contemn life, and are impatient of its continuance, shall be the persons most eager to prolong it. When they, behold it in reality drawing towards a close, and are obliged to look forward to what is to come after it, they shall be rendered awfully sensible of its value. They will then grasp eagerly at the flying hours; anxious to stop them if they could, and to employ every moment that remains in repairing their past errors, and in making their peace, if possible, with God and heaven. According as they have sown, they now reap. They are reduced to eat the fruit of their own ways, and to be filled with their own devices.

THERE remains still a third class of those who from discontent are become weary of life; such as have embittered it to themselves by the consciousness of criminal deeds. They have been, perhaps, unnatural to their parents, or treacherous to their friends; they have violated their fidelity, have ensnared and ruined the innocent; or have occasioned the death of others. There is no wonder that such persons should lose their relish for life. To whatever arts they may have recourse for procuring a deceitful peace, conscience will at times exert its native power, and shake over them its terrific scourge. The internal misery they endure has sometimes arisen to such a height, as had made them

terminate, with their own hands, an existence which they felt to be insupportable.-To the complaints of such persons no remedy can be furnished, except what arises from the bitterness of sincere and deep repentance. We can do no more than exhort them to attone as much as in their power for the evils they have committed; and to fly to the divine mercy through Jesus Christ for pardon and forgiveness. Let us now,

II. TURN to persons of another description, and consider the sentiment in the text as exhorted by situations of distress, These are so variously multiplied in the world, and often so oppressive and heavy, that assuredly it is not uncommon to here the afflicted complain that they are weary of life. The complaints, if not always allowable, yet certainly are more excusable than those which flow from the sources of dissatisfaction already mentioned. They are sufferers, not so much through their own misconduct, as through the appointment of Providence; and therefore to persons in this situation it may seem more needful to offer consolation, than to give admonition. However, as the evils which produce this impatience of life are of different sorts, a distinction must be made as to the situations which can most excuse it.

SOMETIMES, the exclamation in the text may be occasioned by deep and overwhelming grief. When they whom we had most affectionately loved, and in whom we had placed the felicity of our days, are taken away, our connection with life appears to be dissolved. "Why should we survive those to whom our "souls were tied? Would to God we had died before them! Now "when they are gone, all pleasure and hope is gone as to us. "To us the sun no longer shines with its usual brightness. No "longer cheerfulness invests the face of nature. On every ob"ject a sad gloom appears to rest; and every employment of "life has become an oppressive burden." With the feelings of those who are thus distressed we naturally sympathise. They are frequently the feelings of the most virtuous and amiable minds and yet such persons must be told, that grief may be in dulged so far as to become immoderate and improper. There are bounds which are prescribed to it both by reason and by religion. A Christian ought not to mourn like those who have no hope. While he fells his sorrows as a man, he should also study to bear them like a man, with fortitude; and not abandon himself to feeble and fruitless melancholy. Let him have recourse to a strenuous discharge of the duties of his station, and consider it as incumbent on him to make the best improvement that he can of those comforts which Providence has still left in his possession.

AGAIN; it sometimes happens that, apart from grief, great reverses of worldly fortune give rise to the lamentation in the

text.

This was the case with Job himself. A sudden fall from opulence into indigence and want; some undeserved disgrace incurred, or some unexpected cloud thrown over former reputation and fame; the unkindness and desertion of friends, or the insolent triumph of enemies, are apt to overwhelm the minds of men with gloom, and to reduce them to be weary of life. To persons under such calamities sympathy is due. That sympathy, however, will be proportioned to the degree in which we consider them as free from blame in the misfortunes which they suffer. As far as, through their own misconduct and vice, they have been the authors to themselves, of those misfortunes, we withdraw our pity. The burden which they have brought on themselves, we leave them to bear as they can; and with little concern we hear them exclaim that their souls are weary of life. -Not only so, but even in cases where calamities have fallen on the innocent, to the pity which we feel for them will be joined a secret contempt, if we perceive that together with their prosperity, their courage and fortitude have also forsaken them. To abandon themselves to dejection, carries no mark of a great or a worthy mind. Instead of declaring that his soul is weary of his life, it becomes a brave and a good man, in the evil day, with firmness to maintain his post; to bear up against the storm; to have recourse to those advantages which, in the worst of times, are always left to integrity and virtue; and never to give up the hope that better days may yet arise.

It is good for persons in such situations to remark that, though Job was for a long while severely tried by a variety of distresses, yet his condition was not left finally unhappy. On the contrary, the goodness of that God whom he had served, returned at last to shine upon him with greater brightness than ever. His riches were restored to him twofold. The losses in his family were repaired by a new offspring. His name became again renowned in the east; and the latter end of Job, we are told, was more blessed than the beginning.

BUT still, it may be asked, will not the continuance of long and severe disease justify the exclamation in the text, My soul is weary of my life! To persons who are forsaken by all the blessings of health, and who have no prospect left, but that of lingering under sickness or pain, Job's complaint may assuredly be forgiven more than to any others. Though it might be suggested to them, that even in old age and sickness, except in very extreme cases, some resources are always left of which they may avail themselves for relief; yet it must be admitted, that lawfully they may wish their sufferings to be brought to an end. Still, however, they must remember, that resignation to the pleasure of Heaven continues to be their duty to the last. As long as any part remains to be acted, as long as their conti

nuance in the world can serve any valuable purpose, it is more honourable to bear the load with magnanimity, than to give way to a querulous and dejected spirit. It remains,

III. To address myself to another order of men, among whom, though more rarely than among those whom I have described, the sentiment of the text is to be found. They are persons who have no particular complaint to make of the injustice of the world, or the afflictions of their state. But they are tired of the vanity of the world, of its insipid enjoyments, and its perpetually revolving circle of trifles and follies. They feel themselves made for something greater and nobler. They are disgusted and hurt with the scenes of wickedness that are often passing before their eyes. Their hearts are warmed with the thoughts of a purer and more perfect existence designed for man; and in the moments of aspiration after it, the exclamation breaks forth, My soul is weary of my life,-Oh! that I had wings like a dove! for then I would fly away and be at rest. Lo! then I would wander afar off, and remain in the wilderness. I would hasten my escape from the windy storm and tempest. For I have seen violence and strife in the city. Wickedness is in the midst thereof; deceit and guile depart not from her streets.* In this view the sentiment in the text may sometimes be that of a deyout man. But such persons I must admonish, that their devotion, however sincere, is not altogether of a rational and chastened kind. It was from this temper that, in former ages of the church, the numerous race sprung of anchorets, hermits, and all the various orders who voluntarily abandoned the world, to people the lonely desarts and the monastic retreat. The ordinary course of things seemed below them as candidates for heaven. The concerns of the world appeared unworthy of their attention, and dangerous to their virtue. Breathing after a higher state, they imagined that they could not abstract themselves too much from every earthly amusement, as long as they were forced to remain in this place of exile.

Let us beware of all such imaginary refinements as produce a total disrelish of our present condition. They are, for the most part grafted, either on disappointed pursuits, or on a melancholy and splenetic cast of mind. They are far from contributing to happiness, and are inconsistent with all the active virtues of man. This life deserves not indeed to be put in competition with that blessed immortality to which God has raised our hopes. But such as it is, it is the gift of God.. It is the sphere in which his wisdom has placed us, and appointed us to act our parts. As long as it lasts, we must neither slight the duties which it requires, nor undervalue the innocent enjoyments which

Psalm, lv. 6-11.

it offers. It belongs to a man to live among men as his brethren; which he who declares himself weary of life is not qualified to do with propriety.

THUS I have placed before you, in various views, the sentiments in the text; and have shown in what circumstances, and from what causes that disrelish of life arises which is often found among mankind. On a review of the whole we cannot but acknowledge, that it is oftner to be ascribed to our own vices and follies, than to any other cause. Among the multitudes in the world, to whom at this day life is burdensome, the far greater number is of those who have rendered it so themselves. Their idleness, their luxury and pleasures, their criminal deeds, their immoderate passions, their timidity and baseness of mind, have dejected them in such a degree, as to make them weary of their existence. Preyed upon by discontent of their own creating, they complain of life when they ought to reprehend themselves.

Various afflictions there doubtless are in the world; many persons with whom we have cause to sympathize, and whom we might reasonably forgive for wishing death to close their sorrows. But of the evils which embitter life, it must be admitted, that the greater part is such as we have brought on ourselves; or at least such as, if we were not wanting to ourselves, might be tolerably supported. When we compute the numbers of those who are disposed to say, My soul is weary of my life, some there are to whom this sentiment is excusable; but many more among whom it is in no way unjustifiable. I admit that among the worthiest and the best, there may be dark moments in which some feeling of this nature map be apt to intrude upon their minds. But with them they are only moments of occasional and passing gloom. They soon recall the vigour of their minds; and return with satisfaction to the discharge of the duties, and to a participation of the enjoyments of life.

One great cause of men's becoming weary of life is grounded on the mistaken views of it which they have formed, and the false hopes which they have entertained from it. They have expected a scene of enjoyment; and when they meet with disappointments and distresses, they complain of life as if it had cheated and betrayed them. God ordained no such possession for man on earth as continued pleasure. For the wisest purposes he designed our state to be chequered with pleasure and pain. As such let us receive it, and make the best of what is doomed to be our lot. Let us remain persuaded, that simple and moderate pleasures are always the best; that virtue and a good conscience are the surest foundations of enjoyment; that he who serves his God and his Saviour with the purest intentions, and governs his passions with the greatest care, is likely