their conviction, their interest, their character, to all that seemed estimable in their own eyes, they have descended from the towering heights of virtue into the abysses of vice. Such instances do, indeed, often occur; and they are usually blazoned and exaggerated by triumphant delinquency. In many cases of degemeracy, it is probable that the appearances of virtue were insincere. But allowing, what indeed the uniform decisions of observation, reason, and religion clearly declare, that human nature is weak in the extreme, yet I would draw a different conclusion from that which is deduced by the patrons of libertinism.

The nature of man is extremely infirm; therefore I argue, let every effort be made to acquire strength. It cannot be said that the endeavour must of necessity be abortive; it, cannot be said that we have not natural incitements sufficient, to encourage a vigorous attempt. We have nice sensibilities of moral rectitude, we have a natural love of excellence, we have intellectual powers capable of infinite improvement, we have precepts innumerable; and, to the honour of human nature,. let it be added, that examples also greatly abound. Many individuals, who enrolled themselves among the severer sects of ancient philosophy, have exhibited most animating proofs of the strength of human nature. It is not to be supposed that they possessed faculties more in number, or more perfect in their kind,. than the present race. But they loved excellence, and they believed that they were capable of it. That belief operated most favourably on their exertion. They succeeded in their attempts, and stand forth among mankind like: colossal statues, and a collection of images less than the life.

It will, therefore, be rendering an effectual service to mankind, to revive this belief among the gay and dissipated Philosophers have already received it; but philosophers, are, to the rest of mankind, what a drop of water is to an ocean. Pretended philosophers are numerous indeed; but they divulge opinions which tend, to degrade andi vilify human nature. Popularity

seems to be more their object, than the sublime satis faction of discovering and communicating useful truth. But were the generality of mankind convinced that they are capable of arriving at high degrees of excel lence, and consequently led to aspire at it, moral evil would certainly decrease, and society assume a fairer aspect. Much evil and much misery will always be found in it during this sublunary state; but that share of it which is obstinately and presumptuously occa sioned by our own folly, may certainly be removed by the correction of that folly.

What is done in works of art, may be affected in morals. Were a musical instrument to be placed in the hands of a peasant who had never heard or seen one, and were he told that he might, if he were to attend it, call forth sounds from it which would delight every hearer, he would not be induced by any argument to believe the possibility of it. Yet let him regularly learn, and practise a due time, and he will arrive at a degree of skill, which, though far from perfection, will appear miraculous, when compared with his original inability. So, in life, if you inform your disciple that he is able to reach a great degree of excellence, and urge him to the attempt, he will infallibly make great advances, and improve to his own astonishment. But indulge his natural indolence, timidity, or despair, by expatiating on the irremediable weakness of human nature, and you effectually preclude even his endeavours, and add to his natural imbecility.

In the works of art, in sculpture, and in painting, in the subordinate operations of mechanical ingenuity, to what perfection does the hand of man attain? When a savage sees a watch, he adores it as a god. No earnestness of assertion would convince him that it was the work of a creature in all respects like himself, except in acquired dexterity. And can man improve himself so highly in the mechanical arts, in science, and in the productions of taste, and be unable to arrive at real and solid improvement in the finest art and the noblest science-the art and the science of conducting

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life? Half the constancy and the attention which is displayed in acquiring skill in an occupation by which money is to be gained, if bestowed on the melioration of the morals, would usually produce a most laudable character; because the state of things is so constituted, that labour, well bestowed and properly directed, always produces a valuable effect. Away, then, with the philosophy which increases the weakness of our nature, by representing it as insuperable! Our personal excellence and our happiness, our friends and our country, are greatly interested in exploding this pusillanimous philosophy. We shall indeed often fall, but let us rise again undejected. Our failings will be great, but great also may be our virtues. At least, according to an old and just observation, by aiming at absolute perfection, we shall approach it much more nearly than if we sat down inactive through despair.

Modern philosophers and disciples, while they assert the inefficacy of philosophy, of moral precepts, of religious influence, are inclined to maintain, that the effect which these only pretend to produce, may be produced by modern honour. In reply to this assertion, I put these questions: Who are the persons who openly and proudly commit deeds at which the child of nature, even the savage, would shudder?-who is guilty of the meanest, cruellest seduction?-who wears a sword ready to plunge it into the heart of his dearest friend, for a trifling provocation?-who is ready to glory in breaking the peace of conjugal life, and ruining a family for the gratification of lust or vanity? Unerring experience replies-Men of honour! all, all honourable men.

From such delusions let the untainted minds of youth hasten to escape. To religion and morality let them fly for solid comfort, and for those assistances which can alone repair the ruins made in the glorious fabric of human nature by folly and vice. With our utmost endeavours, both reason and divinity inform us we shall be at last greatly defective. Whither then shall we go for succour? whither shall we turn to find that which shall support our weakness, and

supply our defects? Philosophy is often in vain, but religion never. To the Deity we must have recourse, who will certainly strengthen us by his grace, and pardon our involuntary failures and errors, of his infi nite mercy.

Devotion, therefore, is one of the greatest blessings, and the want of it one of the greatest misfortunes, which a Christian can experience. When it is present, it gives life to every act of worship we perform; it renders every such act interesting and comfortable to ourselves. It is experienced in our most retired moments, in our beds, in our closets, in our rides, and in our walks. It is felt within us, when we are assembled with our children and servants in family prayer. It leads us to church,-to the congregation of our fellow Christians there assembled. In an especial manner it accompanies us in our joint offices of religion; and it returns us to our homes, holier, happier, and better. When it is attended by an abstinence from sin, and endeavours after virtue,-by avoiding evil and doing good, the proof and the satisfaction to be drawn from it are complete.

Education, intercourse with the world, the relaxed discipline of society, and even the common forms of legal administration, have, it is to be feared, been greatly influential in decreasing that adoration and reverence for the supreme Being, which, like the fire that never was extinguished in the temple of Vesta, or like the fragrant incense that continually rose in the Temple of old, are the only signs and tokens of genuine religion. The sacred name of God carries with its utterance little of that feeling of humiliation,-that consciousness of superior goodness, majesty, and power,which immediately suggest themselves when his attributes are weighed and considered; and as we are endeavouring to found our code for the regulation of life, and the consequent enjoyment of its pleasures, really and essentially upon a religious basis, it may be useful to possess the important definition which that good Christian and great philosopher, Sir Isaac Newton, attached to the name of God:

"God governs all things, not as the soul of the world, but as Lord over all; and, on account of his dominion, he is wont to be called Lord God, or Universal Ruler. For God is a relative word, and has respect to servants; and deity is the dominion of God, not over his own body, as those imagine who fancy him to be the Soul of the World, but over servants. The supreme God is a Being eternal, infinite, and absolutely perfect; but a Being, however perfect, without dominion, cannot be said to be Lord God: for we say, my God, your God, the God of Israel, the God of gods; my Eternal, your Eternal, the Eternal of Israel, the Eternal of gods; but we do not say my Infinite, or my Perfect: these are titles which have no respect to servants. The word God usually signifies Lord; but every Lord is not a God. It is the dominion of a spiritual Being which constitutes a God; a true, supreme, or imaginary dominion, makes a true, supreme, or imaginary God. And from his true dominion it follows, that the true God is a living, intelligent, and powerful Being; and from his other perfections, that he is supreme or most perfect. He is eternal and infinite, omnipotent and omniscient; that is, his duration reaches from eternity to eternity, his presence from infinity to infinity; he governs all things, and knows all things that are or can be done. He is not eternity or infinity, but eternal and infinite; he is not duration or space, but he endures and is present. He endures for ever, and is every where present; and by existing always and every where, constitutes duration and space. Since every particle of space is always, and every indivisible moment of duration is every where, certainly the Maker and Lord of all things cannot be never and no where. Every soul that has perception is, though in different times, and in different organs of sense and motion, still the same indivisible person. There are given successive parts in duration, and coexistent parts in space, but neither the one nor the other in the parts of a man, or his thinking principle; and much less can they be found in the thinking principle of God. Every man, so far as he is a thing that has perception, is one and the same man during his whole life, in all and each of his organs of sense. God is one and the same God, always and every where. He is omnipresent, not virtually only, but also substantially; for virtue cannot subsist without substance. In him are all things contained and moved; yet neither affects the other. God suffers nothing from the motion of bodies; bodies find no resistance from the omnipresence of God. It is allowed by all, that the supreme God exists necessarily, and by the same necessity he exists always and every where. Hence also he is all similar,all eye, all ear, all brain, all arm, all power to perceive, to understand, and to act; but in a manner not at all human, in