his Parliament. In this situation died the profligate and unprincipled Charles II. a Papist, there is reason to believe, by profession; and an infidel, it is to be feared, at heart.

Eager to pursue the plan of laying waste both the civil and religious liberties of this country, his brother James II. ascended the throne. The laws of Rome were on his heart, and the rod of tyranny was in his hand. Now the storm gathered thick around, the heavens lowered, the lightning flashed, the bellowing thunder came, rolling on. Appearances were, however, in the beginning to be observed. To deceive the credulous, and, at the same time, to take off all restraints from those of his own communion, he published his proclamation of general indulgence; which, though it afforded present relief to the persecuted, yet, by the claim it made to a right of dispensing with the laws, convinced all considerate men that he aimed at arbitrary dominion. A Jesuit, who had been already made the keeper of his conscience, was called to the counciltable. The rites of the Romish church were observed in all their pomp at court. Vacant chairs at the Universities were filled with Papists. A nuncio was solemnly received from Rome, and an ambassador sent thither with great parade. And seven bishops, who had the firmness to refuse compliance with his illegal commands, were committed prisoners to the Tower.

In this crisis of our affairs, when the friends of religion and liberty began to give up all for lost, an illustrious band of patriots arose, and, at the hazard of their property and their lives, confederated for our deliverance. Their counsels were wisely laid, and firmly executed. The Prince of Orange, who had married the daughter of James, they invited hither. He accepted their invitation. In a fleet fitted out by the States he embarked, and on the fifth of November, the day following his birth-day, landed at Torbay.

The wretched James was instantly forsaken by his flatterers, and at a loss to whom to look for counsel. Struck with a panic, he had not courage to resist the progress of the Prince towards London, or to wait the event of it. He stole from his palace by night, threw his seals into the Thames, fled in a

fishing-boat to France, and sought an asylum from a haughty tyrant, who had a little before washed his hands in the blood of thousands of his own innocent subjects. And now a dirge at his funeral was the best, if not the only, service his infatuated priests could render him.

Our deliverer in the mean time, in full confidence of the justice of his cause and the purity of his views, approached the metropolis, where he was received with the joyful acclamations of a people, who could scarce believe, amidst this scene of wonders, that the manacles were fallen from their hands, and they again free. A solemn Convention of the States was called, the rights of the subject were asserted and confirmed, crowns were placed on the heads of WILLIAM and MARY, and the constitution fixed on a basis more firm than it had ever before stood.

Thus arose out of the ruins of tyranny a building fair and beautiful, stately and majestic, solid and durable. A constitution which indeed existed before this period, but now received its noblest improvement and confirmation. A constitution which has liberty for its basis, and is so constructed by a due temperament of the powers of monarchy, aristocracy, and democracy, as to render it the happiest and most stable form of government on earth. The advantages resulting from it have been realized through a long course of years, which form a period the most illustrious of any to be met with in the history of mankind. Nor need we fear that a building thus reared, under the smiles of heaven, will receive any injury from the assaults of despotism, so long as national virtue, and a due regard to the authority of God, remain sacred among us.

The agency of divine Providence in this wonderful event ought to be diligently noticed, and devoutly acknowledged. To overlook it, or regard it only with a negligent eye, would argue great folly and ingratitude. Forbid it! O God, that Britons, that Protestants, that Protestant Dissenters should be chargeable with this enormous guilt. It is the Lord's doing. Let it be marvellous in our eyes.

Can we recollect the circumstances attending a revolution, which makes so distinguished a figure in the history of this country, and not clearly discern a superior influence therein?

If the old adage be true, that "whom God means to destroy he infatuates," it is beyond a doubt that James was infatuated of heaven. His precipitate conduct, immediately upon mounting the throne, in calling his priests about him; his sending a solemn embassy to Rome, where he was considered as acting the part of a madman; his unrelenting fary towards the insurgents in the west, through the medium of those bloody executioners of his vengeance, Jefferies and Kirk; his treatment of the bishops for doing their duty; his flying in the face of the laws, immediately upon his having sworn to observe them; his refusing the assistance of the arms of France, at the instant he stood most in need of them; and, to add no more, his duplicity in the business of the Oxford Popish professors: these, and many other political solecisms in his conduct, oblige us to acknowledge that he was devoted of God to ruin-of that God who meant by his just overthrow, when in the full career of tyranny, to save this afflicted and oppressed people.

Nor was the infatuation of this unhappy prince, the only character that marked the interference of Heaven. Many others concurred to direct our attention to that providence, which sat at the helm of our vessel, when thus torn by adverse winds, and at length conducted it to the desired haven. It was God who raised up those renowned patriots, whose exertions in the cause of expiring freedom will never never be forgotten. It was God who steeled their breasts against the dread of those tremendous evils, they had to apprehend from the vindictive spirit of a bigotted tyrant. It was God who inspired their counsels with wisdom, unanimity, and firmness. It was God who sent us the great, the good king William, commanding the winds to be obedient to his wishes a. It was

a The great storm that blew from the west, immediately upon the prince's landing, which prevented the king's fleet from continuing their pursuit, and so shattered them that they were no more fit for service that year, was a providential circumstance in favour of the Revolution, much regarded at that time. "I never found," says Bishop Burnet, "a disposition to superstition in my temper: I was rather inclined to be philosophical upon all occasions. Yet I must confess, that this strange ordering of the winds and seasons, just to change as our affairs required it, could not but make deep impressions on me, as well as on all that observed it. Those famous verses of Claudian

God who said of our deliverer, as he did of Cyrus, He is my Shepherd, and shall perform all my pleasure. His right hand have I holden, to subdue nations before him: and I will loose the loins of kings to open the way before him. I will go before him, and make the crooked places straight: I will break the gates of brass, and cut asunder the bars of iron: that they may know from the rising of the sun, and from the west, that there is none besides me, I am the Lord, and there is none else a.'

What remains then, my friends, but that we offer our most devout acknowledgments to God for this wonderful deliverance? Nor let us forget the salvation wrought out for us at the demise of queen Anne, when the designs of arbitrary power were again defeated, and the illustrious family of Brunswick ascended the throne of these kingdoms; for the securing which event the immortal king William took such wise precautions. Let us also recollect, with heart-felt joy and gratitude, the inestimable blessings we have enjoyed under the mild administrations of the two princes of this House who have already reigned; and that happy confirmation and enlargement which our religious liberties have received under the reign of his present Majesty. And while we tenderly feel with him and his afflicted family, in the mournful providence with which they are now visited, let us offer our fervent and repeated prayers to God, that tranquillity may be restored to his royal bosom, that he may again assume the reins of government with distinguished glory, and that, in the mean while, the deliberations of our great men, under the guidance of Heaven, may be directed to the happiest issue,

To conclude-Let us humble ourselves before God for our manifold sins, which have been aggravated by the magnitude

seemed to be more applicable to the Prince than to him they were made on ;" O nimium dilecte Deo, cui militat æther,

Et conjurati veniunt ad classica venti!

Heaven's favourite for whom the skies do fight,

And all the winds conspire to guide thee right.

See Burnet's Hist. of his own Times, vol. i. p. 789, 790, first ediț. a Isa. xliv. 28. xlv. 1-6.

of his favours conferred upon us. Let us retain a grateful remembrance of the obligations we owe to the noble exertions of our brave ancestors. Let the same ardour that inspired their breasts, in the glorious cause of civil and religious liberty, inflame ours. Let us heartily concur in every measure for emancipating our brethren of mankind, in remote parts, from the galling yoke of slavery; and for diffusing the knowledge of God and their duty among the rising generation at home. And, while we watch over our rights with a jealous eye, let us ever remember that a due regard to that subordination in society, which reason and religion teach, is one just and natural mean to secure them. Let us fear God, and honour the king. Let us lead holy and exemplary lives. And, in fine, let us express the cordial affection we feel for the gospel, that most inestimable of all blessings, by every possible exertion in the warfare, wherein our divine Saviour has engaged us, with sin, the world, and the powers of darkness. So, when God, in the last and great day which is approaching, shall shake not the earth only but the heavens, we shall receive a kingdom which cannot be moved.