AN INN
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It became a matter of much satisfaction, I believe, to my fellow-traveller as well as to myself, to behold the appearance of an inn on the road; for we both needed rest and refreshment; so that without any deliberation we entered the door.
"Can you accommodate us?" said my friend to the host, who happened to be near the door as we approached the house. "Certainly," answered the man; and showed us into a room.
"You do not forget, my brother," whispered my fellow-traveller to me, "who it was, among the pilgrims passing through this world, who could not find this accommodation? There was no room for Him in the inn. How sweetly is it arranged in all the various circumstances of life, to discover somewhat of his bright example going before us in almost every situation; not by way of reproach—but of pointing out to us, in numberless instances, the superiority of our accommodations to his!
"There is something in the very nature of an inn," continued my friend, "which serves, as it appears to me, to promote the sacred purposes of a pilgrimage like ours, more effectually than almost any other situation; and had I my choice on this point, I would like it, of all others, for my abode in the dying hour; for everyone is so taken up with his own concerns, that there is neither time nor inclination to attend to the affairs of others; so that here a man might be free from the troublesome importunity of attendants, which sometimes becomes a sad interruption to the soul, in her preparations for her journey into the invisible world, while the carriage is at the door."
Our refreshment, consisting of a little tea and bread, was soon served up; which, my friend having first implored the divine blessing to sanctify the use of, we really enjoyed. "Tea is a very pleasant beverage," said my friend, "to my taste; and I should find some difficulty to get anything as a substitute, were I to be deprived of the use of it. I have heard many speak of it as pernicious; but I truly believe, that one great reason why it proves so is, because it is a graceless meal. If we do not beg God's blessing over our food, how can we be surprised if, instead of being wholesome, it proves hurtful?"
After we had finished our meal, and, like well-fed guests, had arisen from the table, blessing the kind Master of the feast, "who gives us all things richly to enjoy," we were about to enter upon the perusal of the word of God, by way of profitably filling up the measure of time until the hour of rest; when a circumstance occurred, which at once arrested the attention of us both.
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