In that wonderful book which, next to the Bible, has been most extensively circulated in the English language, _viz._, Bunyan's "Pilgrim's Progress," there is a scene which is most impressive. It represents to us Christian fleeing from the city of this world, with a large bundle upon his shoulders. He comes to a place somewhat elevated; upon that place stands a cross, and a little below there is a sepulcher, and as he comes up with the cross, the bundle looses from off his shoulders and rolls away, till it comes to the mouth of the sepulcher, where it rolls in and he sees it no more. How many as they have read or seen the picture of the quaint old story have wished that it might be so with them as it was with Christian, that the load which they are bearing might slip off their backs, leaving the heart light and spirit free. And there is no reason why it may not, provided they take it, like Christian, to the proper place. What is set forth in the allegory, that, according to St. Peter in the text, may be experienced in reality and in truth. God grant that with the Holy Spirit's aid we may acquire the art. Three thoughts are set before us: _I. That every child of man has a burden to bear_; _II. what he should do with it_; III. _why he should so dispose of it_. A distinguished German preacher, speaking on the Gospel of this Sunday, remarked that man in this world has a solemn companion that follows him whithersoever he goeth. Like a shadow, it will cling to his footsteps, dogging his every movement and occupying his every moment. In the silence of the chamber it will steal through the keyhole, and when slumber is about to fall upon his weary eyelids, it will whisper rest-disturbing messages into his ear. No spot is too desolate, no mind immune against its perplexing assaults. The German calls the name of this dreary attendant "Sorge." Our text calls it "Care," meaning anxious care, solicitude, distracting fear. That, as stated, is the burden of every child of Adam. It may not externally appear so,--it may be hidden behind silken tapestry or marble apartments,--but it is there. People look at a king; they gaze upon a rich mansion, see its occupants, driving forth in an elegant equipage. They think, "What a favored lot is theirs!" They realize not the dark shadow of care sitting behind the coachman, and realize not what the poet expresses thus: "Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown." Nor can it be said that it has lessened. We have made mighty advancement; never was the world so rich in material things, never did we possess so many devices for lightening human toil and tasks, and yet due likely to the speed at which we have to move, the high pressure at which we have to live, the complexity of the social organism of which we form a part, it is a matter of fact that the man and the woman of to-day are getting more nervous and highly strung, less able to bear their burdens calmly and patiently. Worry, constant distraction, and disquietude