Tracts for the Christian Seasons.

CONCLUDING TRACT.

OFTENTIMES When a traveller has reached some lofty hill, he turns round and gazes upon the country through which he has passed, refreshing his memory with the distant prospect of towns, churches, villages, which he once closely scanned. As the country lies like a map before him he recollects all his roadside scenes, and all the points which he admired the most, though it is all now far off, and indistinctly seen. At such a time he is able to gaze upon it all; he sees the whole at once; the several parts are not so clear to his eye as when he was in the midst of his journey; the details of the scene cannot be accurately viewed; he cannot see all the street of such a village, though he noted it all as he passed along; he only sees, perhaps, the grey smoke curling up from the dim, half-hidden line of houses stretching along the distant road; he only sees

the spire of the church, with the more prominent parts, while the mullions of the windows, the sculpture of the arched door, all the fair workmanship that caught his admiration when he wandered round the house of God, is lost; the spire, and the long line of roof, and the gables rising between the trees, remind him of what he saw.

But, as I have said, though he cannot discern all the lesser features of every part, he is able to take a better view of the whole country through which he has passed. Each point may be less closely scrutinized, but he can the better enjoy the harmony of the whole. Yes, harmony it is; different as are the various parts, they all blend together, and by their very variety set off each other.

The scattered villages and towns break the monotony of mere country, and give life to the scene by peopling it; while woods and fields, pleasant meadows and running streams, prevent the eye being wearied by the more dreary monotony of endless streets and houses. Just as in music the higher and lower tones, though so opposite, ravish our ears when they are combined.

Now the Church, good reader, treating all her sons as travellers and wayfaring men, has led

you by her Christian Seasons past all the Christian truths that are most surely to be believed ; and has bidden you look at them, gaze on them, study them in detail, one by one. One by one they met your eye as you journeyed on, that you might the better see the value of each separate part. Each being worthy of separate thought, you were led to each, and taught to give it separate notice; you were able to look closely, and to examine thoroughly; your soul's eye was not distracted by too many truths at once; it had leisure to master each, apart from its neighbouring truths. On you went from stage to stage, like a careful pilgrim with a good guide at hand, ready to shew you all that was worthy of your eye, all that was meet to be admired and known; this guide had so laid out the plan of your pilgrimage beforehand, that your time, by being rightly measured according to the worth of the objects on your way, might be most profitably used, not dwelling over long on the lesser points, and then being forced to hurry you quickly through the greater, but having so discreetly arranged your course, as to give each object, each Christian truth, its due proportion of time and thought.

Thus you had your Christmas, and Epiphany,

and Lent and Easter, and all the other godly times in which the several parts of the Gospel scheme were singly and individually dwelt upon and observed. Thus, too, there was a greater or a lesser share of time, according to the greater or lesser importance of each truth, the feast of a saint not holding your soul so long as to give you less time for the study of some truth concerning Christ, whether His Birth, or Death, or Ascension into heaven; and yet these truths concerning Christ, unspeakably important and necessary as they are, not being suffered to prevent our gazing at the excellency of the saints, and drawing encouraging lessons, whether from their faults or their lofty faith. Thus, also, we were led through varying scenes; at one time we were standing as it were in the wilderness, seeing our blessed Saviour in the midst of that temptation which He endured alone; at another, we were standing in the inn yard where the manger was the rough cradle of the incarnate Son; at another, we were in the garden in the midst of the olive trees, when the Son of Man was in His agony; at another, we were in the crowded streets of Jerusalem, as He rode in triumph into the royal city. Various were the scenes through which we were led; as various as those through

which the wayfarer passes, who is now on the bare lonely heath, now in the busy restless

town.

But now, as the several parts of the Gospel scheme have been separately considered in their own proper place on the Christian's road, we stand as it were on a lofty hill; now we pause; now we can see the whole road through which we have passed in this pilgrimage of a year.

Look back, then, and gaze, I pray you, at the road which we have traversed, as you can see the whole; look back, and let your eye pass on from point to point, surveying at once the various truths, that fit in one with the other, and that make up the whole system of Christian truth. Godly and excellent is the order in which they have been arranged; it is a journey well laid out; it is not a twisted and circuitous road through the revealed truth; it is not as a road leading us back to a truth just considered, or putting one point first which should have been stopped at later in the way. We did not, for instance, start with considering the truth of our Saviour's Ascension into heaven before we had considered His Death; nor did we consider His Death after we had been gazing on His Resurrection. We began, so to speak, at the begin