tree itself, nourished as it had been with the chief fatness of the earth, and with the richest dews of heaven, was "hewn down and cast into the fire."

Let England, let those especially of rank and influence, and, above all, let the personage whose high, but most awful trust, it may be to have the delegated oversight of this vineyard, which God has "fenced and planted with the choicest vine;" let ALL feel the weight of their responsibility, and avert those judgments which Divine justice may deem commensurate to our abused advantages!

We have been the object of admiration to the whole civilized world! Such have been the blessings conferred upon us, and such have been the bright lights, from time to time, raised up among us, that it could not be otherwise. But what would the effect have been, if our unexampled constitution, correspondent to its native design, had called forth, not the unblushing, because unpunishable, baseness of party profligacy, but the unfettered, disinterested, unanimous exertion of commanding talent, of energetic application, and of invincible virtue! If a solicitude to digest the principles, to imbibe the spirit, and to exemplify the virtues of our illustrious worthies had been as assiduously excited by preceptors in their pupils, and by parents in their children, as a blind admiration of them, or a blinder vanity on account of them: if those worthies had been as sedulously initiated, as they have been loudly extolled; and, above all, if our national church establishment had been as universally influential, as it is intrinsically admirable in its impressive ordinances, its benignant spirit, and its liberal yet unadulterated doctrines-we mean not if these effects had been produced to any improbable utopian extent, but in that measure which was, in the nature of things, possible, and which the moral Governor of the universe had an equitable

right to look for. If this had been realized, who can say what evils might have been prevented, what good might have been accomplished? How might protestantish have spread through Europe, did our national morals keep pace with our profession! How happily might the sound philosophy of the English school, when thus illustrated, have precluded the impious principles and the blasphemous language of Voltaire and his licentious herd! And how would the widely diffused radiance of our then unclouded constitution have poured even upon surrounding countries so bright a day, as to have made rational liberty an object of general, but safe pursuit; and left no place for those works of darkness by which France has degraded herself, and outraged human nature!

Shall we then persevere in our inattention to the indications of Providence? Shall we persist in our neglect or abuse of the talents committed to us? Shall we be still unconscious that all our prosperity hangs suspended on the sole will of God, and that the moment of his ceasing to sustain us, will be the moment of our destruction? And shall not this be felt particularly by those who, by being placed highest in the community, would, in such a ruin, be the most signal victims, so they may now do most toward averting the calamity? On the whole, what is the almost audible language of Heaven to prince and people, to nobles and commoners, to church and state, but that of the great Author of our religion, in his awful message to the long since desolated churches of Asia? "Repent, or else I will come unto thee quickly, and will fight against thee with the sword of my mouth; and I will kill thy children with death, and all the churches shall know that I am he that searcheth the reins and hearts, and I will give to every one of you according to your works."

CHAPTER XL.

On Christianity as a principle of action, especially as it respects supreme rulers.

CHRISTIANITY is not an ingenious theory, a sublime but impracticable speculation, a fanciful invention to exercise the genius or sharpen the wit; but it is a system for common apprehension, for general use, and daily practice. It is critically adapted to the character of man, intelligible to his capacity, appropriated to his wants, and accommodated to his desires. It contains, indeed, abstruse mysteries to exercise his faith, to inure him to submission, to habituate him to dependence; but the sublimest of its doctrines involve deep practical consequences.

Revelation exhibits what neither the philosophy of the old, nor the natural religion of the modern, sceptic ever pretended to exhibit, a compact system of virtues and graces. Philosophy boasted only fair ideas, independent virtues, and disconnected duties. Christianity presents an unmutilated whole, in which a few simple but momentous premises induce a chain of consequences commensurate with the immortal nature of man. It is a scheme which not only displays every duty, but displays it in its just limitation and relative dependence; maintaining a lovely symmetry and fair proportion, which arise from the beautiful connexion of one virtue with another, and of all virtues with that faith of which they are the fruits.

But the paramount excellence of Christianity is, that its effects are not limited, like the virtues of the pagans, to the circumscribed sphere of this world. Their thoughts and desires, though they occasionally appeared, from their sublimity, to have been fitted for a wider range, were, in a great measure, shut in by the dark and narrow bounds of the

present scene. At most, they appear to have had but transient glimpses of evanescent light, which, however, while they lasted, made them often break out into short but spirited apostrophes of hope, and even triumph. The Stoics talked deeply and eloquently of self-denial, but never thought of extending, by its exercise, their happiness to perpetuity. Philosophy could never give to divine and eternal things, sufficient distinctness or magnitude to induce a renunciation of present enjoyment, or to ensure to the conqueror, who should obtain a victory over this world, a crown of unfading glory. It never was explained, except in the page of revelation, that God was himself an abundant recompense for every sacrifice which can be made for his sake. Still less was it ascertained, that, even in this life, God is to the good man his refuge and his strength, a very present help in time of trouble." There is more rational consolation for both worlds, in these few words of the Almighty to Abraham, "Fear not; I am thy shield, and thy exceeding great reward," than in all the happy conjectures, and ingenious probabilities, of all the philosophers in the world.

The religion, therefore, which is in this little work meant to be inculcated, is not the gloomy austerity of the ascetic; it is not the fierce intolerance of the bigot; it is not the mere assent to historical evidence, nor the mere formal observances of the nominal Christian. It is not the extravagance of the fanatic, nor the exterminating zeal of the persecutor: though all these faint shadows, or distorting caricatures, have been frequently exhibited as the genuine portraits of Christianity, by those who either never saw her face, or never came near enough to delineate her fairly, or who delighted to misrepresent and disfigure her.

True religion is, on the contrary, the most sober most efficient, most natural, and therefore most

happy exercise of right reason. It is, indeed, rationally made predominant, by such an apprehension of what concerns us, in respect to our higher nature, as sets us above all undue attraction of earthly objects; and, in a great measure, frees the mind from its bondage to the body. It is that inward moral liberty which gives a man the mastery over himself, and enables him to pursue those ends which his heart and his conscience approve, without yielding to any of those warping influences by which all, except genuine Christians, must be, more or less, led captive. In a word. it is the influential knowledge of HIM, whom to know is wisdomwhom to fear is rectitude-whom to love is happiness. A principle this, so just in rational creatures to their infinite owner, benefactor, and end; so demanded by all that is perceivable in outward nature, so suggested by all that is right, and so required by all that is wrong in the human mind, that the common want of it, which almost every where presents itself, is only to be accounted for on the supposition of human nature being under some unnatural perversion, some deep delirium, or fatal intoxication; which, by filling the mind with sickly dreams, renders it insensible to those facts and verities, of which awakened nature would have the most awful and most impressive perception.

Thus, to awaken our reason, to make us sensible of our infatuation, to point us to our true interest, duty, and happiness, and to fit us for the pursuit, by making us love both the objects at which we are to aim, and the path in which we are to move, are the grand purposes of the Christian dispensation. If moral rectitude be an evil; if inward self-enjoyment be a grievance; if a right estimate of all things be folly; if a cheerful and happy use of every thing, according to its just and proper value, be misery; if a supreme, undeviating attachment to