however the fault of strong and noble minds. It is only the weak, who are confcious of their imbecility, that forgive and forget. How? which is the stronger and greater of the two, the freeman or the flave? He who has the command of himself, or he who is carried away and governed by his paffion? He whofe peace of mind and fatisfaction are feated within himself, and cannot easily be discomposed by external objects, or he who is put out of temper by every tart reply, every fcornful gesture, every cafual or intentional offence, and rendered more or lefs wretched by it? Whether is it nobler or greater, patiently to fuffer evil, or to inflict evil; to bear injury, or to commit injury? Nay, does not the thirst of revenge and its concomitant dread of greater evils presuppose the fentiment of weakness? When is a man more difpofed to anger and refentment than when he labours under a diftempered mind, an infirm or fickly body? And when is he more compofed and calm; when is he in a better mood for fhewing candour and magnanimity, than when he is inwardly pervaded by a lively fenfe of his mental and corporeal energics? -And how can that degrade a man, how can that be a weakness in him, which gives him a fimilitude to Jefus, that exalted pattern of human perfection, which brings him even nearer to the deity; the deity, who with abfolute unbounded power treats finful man with the utmost tenderness and forbearance, with more than fatherly indulgence? No, magnanimity and the love of enemies will always be the prerogative and

the glory of noble fouls, always a characteristic of true greatness of mind and intellectual vigour. Neither fay, in extenuation of its guilt: But still revenge is fweet. So in fact it is, at the moment when thou art requiting evil with evil, when thou art confounding, humiliating thy foe, making him feel thy fuperiority. But will it likewise be so, when thy paffion is over, when the fury of thy blood has fubfided, when thou art returned to thyfelf, when thou must put these questions home: Have I acted like a generous being that has the command of himfelf, as a wife man, as a christian, or like a bafe-born flave? Dare I with my wonted familiarity lift up my eyes and my heart to God, and comfort myself with the hopes of his approbation and favour? Dare I boast of being a follower of Jefus? Will revenge ftill be sweet to thee, if hereafter thou shouldst need favour and indulgence from thy fellow-creature, or pardon from thy God, and they then should return thee like for like, and they then fhould pass a rigorous and merciless verdict on thee, the rigorous and merciless man? Will it ftill be fweet to thee, this revenge, if it fhould fan the flames of difcord, revive the rancour of thy enemy, rouse him to redoubled fury against thee, and thus bring on a fruitful, perhaps a never-failing fource of discord, of quarrels, of injuries, and infults? Will it in fhort, still be fweet, this revenge, when thou art standing on the brink of the grave, on the borders of eternity, and must presently appear before

the judge of the universe, and be judged and treated by him, as thou haft here judged and treated thy brother? Oh beware of purchasing at so dear a price that moment of sweet enjoyment which revenge procures! It is the enjoyment of a honied poifon, which quickly changes into bitterness and pain, and at laft is attended with deftruction and death.

Yes, thinkeft thou perhaps, I am sensible that it is beautiful, that it is noble to forgive one's enemy, and to embrace him with benevolence and affection, and nothing should prevent me from doing fo in regard to my adversary, were not his injuries fo numerous, fo highly offenfive. But the wrong he has done me, the uneafiness he has occafioned me, the mischief that he has brought upon me, is too great to be forgotten; it is impoffible but that every thing I fee must remind me of it, or for me to recollect it without displeasure. Therefore, if he had only been guilty of fome flight, unavoidable mistakes, and impertinences, if his offences related merely to infignificant trifles, if thou hadst properly speaking fuffered or loft nothing by them: thou wouldst be magnanimous enough to forgive him, and abftain from revenge. But where then is thy virtue, thy merit? How couldft thou act otherwife without rendering thyself utterly defpicable in thy own eyes and in those of all mankind, without paffing for an infupportable member of fociety? Where is the man, however narrow-minded, that does not frequently do

as

as much? And what man will pretend that he derives any honour or distinction from fo doing? No, virtue prefupposes obftacles and difficulties, ftruggles and warfare. The greater and more various the former, the more courage and force the latter demand; fo much the more illuftrious is the virtue, that vanquishes and furmounts thofe obstacles and difficulties, and comes off victorious from that conflict. Love of enemies is a virtue, is one of the noblest and fublimeft virtues; but it is only fuch when it facrifices all to the demands of reafon and religion, and in order to comply with their laws, neither reckons up nor weighs out the injuries and of fences fuftained, but configns them all to oblivion. He who in this or in any other virtue contentedly stops fhort at fome particular degree, he who will only proceed fo far, but no farther on the road of chriftian perfection, will never be truly virtuous, never be perfect. The fame principles that bind thee to the love of enemies in the former cafe, are equally obligatory in every other. The fame bland fentiment of dignity and grandeur, that attends the accomplishment of thy duty in the one inftance, attends it alfo in every other; and only then canft thou quietly and completely enjoy that felicity, when thou art uniformly confiftent, and as juft and generous in thy thoughts and actions at one time as at another. Would't thou therefore avoid forfeiting all pretenfions to sterling, christian virtue, -- and what would that be elfe than to renounce thy perfection and happinefs!

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piness! make no exceptions, where reafon and christianity grant thee no licence to make any, spare no constraint, no exertion and labour to pluck out every root of hatred, every fibre of enmity from thy heart; and never flacken thy diligence till thou haft brought thyself to think no injury however grievous unpardonable, no enemy however culpable unworthy of all affection and good will.

Say not laftly: yes, to forgive my enemy, not to be vindictive towards him, that I know to be poffible, to be even a duty. But to be kind to him, to wish him well and to do him good, to think on him with complacency, how unnatural! How can I proceed fuch lengths while he makes no alteration in his difpofitions and behaviour towards me? Indeed thou wilt never proceed fuch lengths, if thou continue to behold and judge him only on that fide whereby thou deemeft him thy enemy, if thou take into confideration only the faulty and bad that he has and does, or the trefpaffes that he has formerly committed against thee. But has he then no other fides, no other qualities, no other merits? Is the whole of him without exception corrupt and worthlefs? Is he the declared enemy of all mankind, or of all the good, and therefore he is perhaps thy enemy? Does he love nobody, does he affift and ferve nobody? Does he abfolutely effect and promote no good at all? Does he yield no profitable fervice to the community? Does he fill no poft, does he hold no office, does he carry on no bufi

nefs,