cord and human society is like the working of an arch of stone; all would fall to the ground, if one piece did not support another. It is not the value of the present, but the benevolence of the mind, that we are to consider. In deep affliction, there is certainly no balm equal to that of pouring out the heart to a benevolent Deity, and expressing entire resignation to His will. Truth is always uppermost, being the natural issue of the mind; it requires no art nor training, no inducement nor temptation, but only that we yield to natural impulse. Lying, on the contrary, is doing violence to our nature; and is never practised, even by the worst of men, without some temptation. Speaking truth is like using our natural food, which we would do from appetite, although it answered no end: lying is like taking physic, which is nauseous to the taste, and which no man takes, but for some end which he cannot otherwise attain. Devotion is not to be considered as a transient glow of affection, occasioned by some casual impres sions of divine goodness, which are suffered to remain unconnected with the conduct of life. It is a powerful principle, which penetrates the soul, which purifies the affections from debasing attachments, and by a fixed and steady regard to God, subdues every sinful passion, and forms the inclinations to piety and virtue. He who fears God, and is at the same time just and beneficent to men, exhibits religion to the world with full propriety. It shines in his conduct with its native splendour, and its rays throw a glory round him. His character is above It is at once amiable reproach. C C and venerable. Malice itself is afraid to attack him; and even the worst men respect and honour him in their hearts. Books are faithful repositories, which may be awhile neglected or forgotten; but when they are opened again, will again impart their instruction: memory, once interrupted, is not to be recalled. Written learning is a fixed luminary, which, after the cloud that had hidden it has passed away, is again bright in its proper station. Tradition is but a meteor, which, if once it falls, cannot be rekindled. FINIS. [Rogers, printer, Newmarket. |