tain here and there a cause by tracing it upwards from its effects: to number seven planets revolving round the sun: to send imagination into infinite space in search of other systems, till she is bewildered and tired in her progress: to float on the bosom of the air suspended from a globe of silk; or to sail over the surface of the ocean in a vessel of his own construction: to ascend the hoary summit of the loftiest mountain, or to penetrate a fathom or two the surface of the earth: these are the boundaries of human effort. And in searching out the little he is capable of learning, what difficulties he must meet! what embarrassments he must surmount! what labours he must undergo! what time he must expend! And after all, how little has he gained! how much remains unexplored! how uncertain, and probably how erroneous, are his best grounded conclusions! And if we elevate our thoughts to those spirits, whose powers in our limited apprehension are unbounded, we shall find upon inquiry that they also are limited creatures. There are subjects present to the Divine Mind which the angels do not know: mysteries, which the capacity of Gabriel cannot fathom, and which the intelligence of a seraph cannot unravel. How much less 66 man who is a worm, and the son of man who is but a worm ?"

MIRACLES.

EXERTION NECESSARY TO ATTAINMENT.

To attain any object of importance, we must be satisfied to take many weary intermediate steps. To reach any point of eminence, confessedly requires patient industry, and persevering labour. He that will be a scholar, must begin with the easiest principles of language, and gradually ascend to the summit of literature. He that will be a philosopher, must commence with the simple elements of science, and by painful researches explore the worlds of nature and of reason. By many privations, and in the face of many difficulties, the hero advances from "conquering to conquer," till empire after empire is subjugated, and from his hand nations receive their respective destinies. But what, if the scholar had sat down contented with the elements of knowledge? what, if the philosopher had never passed over first principles? what if the hero had been impeded by the first river, or halted at the foot of the first mountain, that crossed his course? or had turned his back and fled at the sound of the first trumpet calling him to battle? or had abandoned the project which his daring mind conceived, upon the first disappointment of his hopes? Where had been the pride of literature, the distinctions of science, and the glory of victory? We should have justly added scorn and reproach to the mortification of failure and defeat→→

and have said-He who will tread the paths of literature and of philosophy, must learn patiently to labour, and perseveringly to advance; and he who claims the warrior's wreath of fame, must as a good soldier, endure hardness, as a skilful leader, meet and bear up against calamity, and as a veteran, sustain with unbending fortitude, and with a mind undismayed, the shock of battle, and even the disasters of defeat.

On what principle is it, that these reasonings, so universally admitted, and which are deemed, on every other point, so self-evident, should be considered in most cases, doubtful, and in some, should be absolutely denied in reference to religion? In securing a worldly interest all the powers of the mind combine with the exertions of the body; and no man expects either distinction or affluence, without toil, and diligence, and decision, and perseverance. The slothful, the inconstant, the presumptuous, if they fail of their object, meet derision instead of pity. We say of the first, "It is the hand of the diligent that maketh rich;" of the second, "Unstable as water, he could not excel;" of the last, he should have "sat down" to count the cost" before he began to "build." It is to religion alone that we refuse to apply these acknowledged principles, as a standard of character, or as a directory for our conduct. In religion alone a man expects to be master of the mysteries of redemption, and of providence, while he is professedly but a disciple; in religion alone he looks to be crown

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ed as a conqueror, before he was well girded on bis armour as a soldier. It is common in worldly affairs to reproach a man, even for calamities which are unavoidable; in religion to throw that blame upon the interest, which is indeed due to ourselves. So oppositely do men judge respecting points, which however distinct in their nature, are allied as to the measures by which they are to be secured, and the duties which are respectively involved in them. To sum up, in one word, these observations, God has, in religion, as in every other case, connected the means with the end; nor can the first be separated from the last, without the whole being lost. He also expects from us, not only the diligence and perseverance necessary to the security of any worldly interest; but a diligence and perseverance commensurate with the greatness and superiority of the object which we propose to ourselves-and this is a reasonable expectation.

MAN'S CONSCIOUSNESS OF IMMORTALITY.

MAN has a spirit within him conscious of immortality, and always instituting inquiries after its high destination. In creation he has no counterpart; in the universe he can find no creature so glorious as himself; so exalted in the scale of being; so elevated in the sphere of natural life; so like the invisible Creator. He feels his dignity every step which he takes; and contemplates the

starry heavens as yielding in splendour, in value, in importance, to the inestimable gem lodged in his bosom. In certain qualities, many things have the preeminence, but, as a whole, he is “more excellent than they." He yields to the animal creation, in strength and swiftness; to the flower of the field, in beauty and variety: to the sun and stars, in lustre, and in present duration; but these are all his inferiors. The animal returns to the dust to perish, buries his powers and existence in the earth, and ceases to be. The flower is formed for a season, withers in its season, and participates not the reproduction of the next spring. The flower which rises from the same root is another flower, and in many respects differs from the preceding one. The sun will spend his lustre, and the hand that feeds his light, shall be withdrawn from him. But man, as a spirit, never dies; and even his body shares the honour conferred upon him. The dishonours of death are transient; the morning of the resurrection will rise upon the grave; the voice of God will rend the sepulchre: a tide of light and of life, will pour in upon its dreary confines; the body shall be raised and reanimated; and death shall have no more dominion over it.