temporal, and visible things. For temporal and visible things must be denied, if we are desirous of finding the eternal rest of our souls in this life. By outward, temporal, and external things, I understand honour, and respect in the sight of the world, human applause, wealth and property, and what is called being well off, house and land, furniture, clothes, and whatever is of an external nature; as also all other persons in the world, friends, acquaintances, and relatives; in short, all that to which the heart and inclinations of the individual can attach itself. All this must be denied and given up, if we are desirous of entering into the promised rest, and consequently into the joy of our Lord.

We must, on taking leave of these things, not only leave nothing behind, but also after our departure from them, not burden ourselves with any thing new. When the children of Israel had passed through the Red Sea, they entered into the desart. There they had neither houses nor towns, but dwelt merely in tents or tabernacles. There they could neither sow nor reap, nor procure themselves a variety of food. God indeed gave them manna from heaven, but they dared not collect, each time, more than they required for one day, and for each individual. The day before the Sabbath excepted; then they were ordered to gather double the quantity, because the manna did not fall on the Sabbath. Once, when they lusted after flesh, they were severely punished. Sometimes they were also in want of water, and the like. In short, they were obliged entirely to give up all those conveniences

they formerly had in Egypt, and content themselves only with what was necessary. Another and striking representation how we ought to conduct ourselves with regard to the things of this world, after our conversion, and after having left the world. At our departure, not a hoof must be left behind, nor the smallest thing, which we have not entirely' renounced.

All that is not God, and does not lead to him, must be renounced; for outward things cannot give rest to our souls, although they may deprive them of it, if we do not walk circumspectly. Many a one thinks perhaps, ‹ Ah, if I had only this thing or that, if I had only attained to this or that state, I should be able to serve God more quietly." O, man, thou deceivest thyself! It is not the possession of things, but the forsaking of them, which brings rest. This experience will teach thee. Further, the rich farmer mentioned in the 12th chapter of Luke, had just such a fancy, when his land brought forth plentifully, it occurred to him to build greater storehouses, and then to say to his soul, "Soul! thou hast much goods laid up for many years. Take thy rest, eat, drink, and be merry!" Now, said the poor man, I can take my rest; a proof that he had enjoyed no rest before, and consequently supposed, that because he really possessed that which he had so long wished for, he would be able to attain to the possession of rest. Thus we think also, that when we possess this and that particular thing, we will retire to rest, we will live happily, and serve God with a quiet mind. But all this is mere deception, even as this man was also

deceived. "Thou fool!" it was said to him, "this night shall thy soul be required of thee." For all things, which are external, not only the blessings of life, but also all outward things, do not harmonize with the nature of our souls. They cannot find either rest or life in them. The soul requires something spiritual, something, that, like itself, endures for ever.

Outward things, and such as strike the senses, are transitory, and cannot afford rest to the soul, both on account of their short duration, as well as because of their inferiority in other respects. The soul must, at death, leave every thing behind! We cannot take any thing with us. Therefore how can outward things tranquillize us at a time when we must be deprived of them eternally? In one word, nothing external can give rest to thy soul. O how often do we see with sorrow, that many amongst us, on their departure out of spiritual Egypt, at their conversion, take with them such cumbrous packages, and so much of what is heavy! This cannot fail to occasion a very difficult and wearisome journey. We ought to travel as pilgrims, free and divested of every thing; much care and attention to the concerns of this life only hinders us on our path. Whilst others burden and tire themselves to death, let us live apart from all these things, contented with little, and using it only as necessity requires. He that earnestly seeks the rest of his soul, endeavours to make his bundle as small as he possibly can, that he may travel as a pilgrim.

Thus it is, that outward things burden and oppress

the soul; whether it be money, or wealth, or honour, or any thing of an external nature. Instead of such like things delighting and tranquillizing the soul, they torture and torment it, and project it from one state of anxiety into another; nay, they never let the man come to himself. An individual, who possesses so many things in the world, in which he seeks his joy and delight, and with which he plays, like a child with its puppets, is as variously distracted and disturbed in his mind, as manifold as the things are which occupy his attention, and in which he vainly seeks rest. In this situation, the poor heart cannot possibly attain to rest; the rest of the soul, in this case, must necessarily suffer. On which account it is by all means necessary, that we steadfastly and magnanimously renounce all these things. For the mind is not only dissipated by them; but when we continually enter into them with our thoughts and senses, the inclination to such things increases, so that the man becomes at length as if enchanted by them; I mean, so captivated by and set upon them, that he can no longer rid himself of them. He becomes so blinded, that the most worthless things appear every day more beautiful, important, and amiable. His soul is, in a certain degree, transformed into that which he loves. Hence it is a common saying, "Money and wealth is all his soul."

O how many grievous instances are there of persons attaching themselves to some particular object with inordinate affection, so that they lose their senses and reason over it, and even commit suicide.

Are not these, therefore, dangerous things? and is not the state of such a man lamentable? His poor heart is held bound by so many fetters, and drawn into that which is external, as various as the objects are to which it adheres; and the firmer it cleaves to them, the more it is separated from God. For where that which is earthly predominates, God cannot reign; consequently neither rest nor peace can be experienced. For the smallest separation betwixt God and us, proves destructive to our rest and our peace. Hence it is, that many, who in other respects are not the vilest and the worst, unceasingly sigh and complain, that their path is so difficult, and that they constantly experience in their minds, such great and manifold uneasiness. My friends, you are far too much occupied ; your heart, your pleasure, and your love is too much divided. You are immersed too deeply in outward things, and hence it is that you cannot rest.

Let us act, therefore, as pilgrims with respect to all outward things. It is not only money and property that disturbs and confuses the individual, but also the cares and desires after these or other things, to which the man cleaves with his heart, whatever names they may bear. All these things disturb the inward repose of the soul, and are the cause why the man never experiences eternal things, the things of the world to come; for the heart is scattered amongst a thousand such like things. Therefore, even as it fares with such people in life, so it will also fare with them, nay, even much worse, in dying and at death. Let us only seriously