there was no vanity to be gratified. The fear of poverty would be dispelled, where there was no man suffered to want what was necessary to his support, or proportioned to his deserts. Such would be the state of a community generally virtuous, and this happiness would probably be derived to future generations; since the earliest impressions would be in favour of virtue, since those, to whom the care of education should be committed, would make themselves venerable by the observation of their own precepts, and the minds of the young and unexperienced would not be tainted with false notions, nor their conduct influenced by bad examples.

Such is the state at which any community may arrive by the general practice of the duties of religion. And can Providence be accused of cruelty or negligence, when such happiness as this is within our power? Can man be said to have received his existence as a punishment, or a curse, when he may attain such a state as this; when even this is only preparatory to greater happiness, and the same course of life will secure him from misery, both in this world and in a future state?

Let no man charge this prospect of things with being a train of airy phantoms; a visionary scene, with which a gay imagination may be amused in solitude and ease, but which the first survey of the world will show him to be nothing more than a pleasing delusion. Nothing has been mentioned which would not certainly be produced in any nation by a general piety. To effect all this, no miracle is required; men need only unite their

endeavours, and exert those abilities which God has conferred upon them, in conformity to the laws of religion.

To general happiness, indeed, is required a general concurrence in virtue; but we are not to delay the amendment of our own lives, in expectation of this favourable juncture. A universal reformation must be begun somewhere, and every man ought to be ambitious of being the first. He that does not promote it, retards it; for every one must, by his conversation, do either good or hurt. Let every man, therefore, endeavour to make the world happy, by a strict performance of his duty to God and man, and the mighty work will soon be accomplished.

JOHNSON.

WORLDLY ZEAL CONTRASTED WITH

RELIGIOUS.

OUR blessed Master has observed, that “the children of this world are in their generation wiser than the children of light." It may be said, with equal truth, that they have generally more zeal, more fortitude, more patience, and perseverance. There is not a votary of wealth, pleasure, power, or fame, who cannot, and who does not, upon occasion, practise a self-denial which few Christians can be prevailed upon to practise in a much better cause; a self-denial more severe and rigid indeed than they are often called upon to practise.

For the sake of collecting what is never to be

used, and adding to his beloved heap, the miser will forego the comforts, the conveniences, and almost the necessaries of existence, and voluntarily submit all his days to the penances and austerities of a mendicant.

The discipline of a life in fashion is by no means of the mildest kind; and it is common to meet with those who complain of being worn down and ready to sink under it. But how can

they help it? What can they do? They are driven and compelled to it; they are fast bound by the adamantine chains of a necessity-not philosophical indeed-but one equally inexorable and irresistible.

ster.

Consider the vigils and abstinence of the gameTo discharge with propriety the duties of his profession, it is expedient that he keep his habit cool, and his head clear. His diet is therefore almost as spare as that of St. John in the wilderness, and he drinks neither wine nor strong drink; lest, instead of his cheating his friend, his friend should cheat him.

Consider the toil and the fatigue willingly undergone by one whose delight is placed in the sports of the field and the pleasures of the chase. How early does he rise! How late is he abroad! "In hunger and thirst, in fasting often, in cold and rain. None of these things move, neither counts he his life dear unto himself," being well content often to put it to the extremest hazard.

Look at the aspirant to power: he wears a countenance always suited to the present occasion. No symptom of inward uneasiness is suffered to appear in it. He holds his passions in the most

absolute subjection. "Hitherto (says he to every one of them) shalt thou come, but no further." He takes patiently and cheerfully affronts and insults. He bears and forbears. Can the Stoic, can the inhabitant of la Trappe do more? Exemplary instances of mortification and self-denial are not confined to the desert or the cloister, They may be found in a court.

How often does the candidate for literary fame pursue his proposition, or his problem, or his system, regardless of food and rest, till his eyes fail, his nerves are shattered, his spirits are exhausted, and his health is gone! But greater things than these are still behind.

At the call of honour, a young man of family and fortune, accustomed to the gratifications of the table, and a life of ease and voluptuousness, quits every valuable and tender connection at home, and submits at once to all the painful duties and hard fare of a camp, in an enemy's country. He travels through dreary swamps and inhospitable forests, guided only by the track of savages. He traverses mountains, he passes and repasses rivers, and marches several hundred miles with scarcely bread to eat, or change of raiment to put on. When night comes, he sleeps on the ground, or perhaps sleeps not at all; and at the dawn of day resumes his labour. At length, he is so unfortunate as to find his enemy. He braves death, amid all the horrors of the field. He sees his companions fall around him-he is wounded, and carried into a tent, or laid in a waggon; where he is left to suffer pain and anguish, with the noise of destruction sounding in

his ears. After some weeks he recovers, and enters afresh upon duty. And does the Captain of thy salvation, O thou who stylest thyself the soldier and servant of Jesus Christ-does he require any thing like this at thy hands? Or canst thou deem him an austere Master, because thou art enjoined to live in sobriety and purity, to subdue a turbulent passion, to watch an hour sometimes unto prayer, or to miss a meal now and then during the season of repentance and humiliation? Blush for shame, and hide thy face in the dust.

BISHOP HORNE.

OF SUPERSTITION.

Ir were better to have no opinion of God at all, than such an opinion as is unworthy of him; for the one is unbelief, the other is contumely: and certainly superstition is the reproach of the Deity. Plutarch saith well to that purpose: Surely," saith he, "I had rather a great deal men should say there was no such a man at all as Plutarch, than that they should say there was one Plutarch, that would eat his children as soon as they were born;" as the poets speak of Saturn: and, as the contumely is greater towards God, so the danger is greater towards 'men. Atheism leaves a man

to sense, to philosophy, to natural piety, to laws, to reputation: all which may be guides to an outward moral virtue, though religion were not; but superstition dismounts all these, and erecteth an absolute monarchy in the minds of men: therefore atheism did never perturb states; for it

VOL. I.

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