one day:" for, to speak like a philosopher, those continued instances of time which flow into thousand yeares, make not, to him, one moment; what to us is to come, to his eternity is present; his whole duration being but one permanent point, without succession, parts, flux, or division."

An important contributor to human happiness, especially in the onset of life, will be a judicious choice of friends and associations; because, among the numerous means by which corruption is introduced into the heart, and its growth accelerated, none is more unhappily powerful than the contagion which is diffused by bad examples, and heightened by particular connections with persons of loose principles or dissolute morals. This, in a licentious state of society, is the most common source of those vices and disorders which so much abound in great cities. The warmth which belongs to youth, naturally exerts itself in generous feelings and sentiments of honour, in strong attachment to friends, and the other emotions of a kind and tender heart. Ministers of vice are seldom wanting, to encourage and flatter their passions. Glad to find any apology for the indulgences of which they are fond, they suggest to the young that strict notions of religion, order, and virtue, are old-fashioned and illiberal-to be preached only to the vulgar, who ought to be kept within subjection. Soothing as such insinuations are, the first steps towards vice are cautiously and timidly taken, and occasionally checked by remorse. In the circles of gaiety, however, they find these loose ideas more generally countenanced, and they gradually increase in boldness. If affluent, amusements and diversions succeed in a perpetual round-night and day are confounded-gaming fills up their vacant intervals-they live wholly in public places-run into all kinds of excess, disagreeable even to themselves, merely from weak complaisance, and the fear of being ridiculed by their loose associates. Thus, in perpetual connection with idle or licentious company, all reflection is lost, and though much good nature may still remain, they are lost past redemption

to all good and useful purposes, unless some seasonable stroke of affliction should, in mercy, be sent to recall them to themselves, and awaken serious and manly thoughts. And if, to these corruptions, be added the infusion of sceptical principles, every crime can then be palliated to conscience, for every check and restraint is then taken away. The lover of pleasure now becomes hardened and cruel, violating his trust, or betraying his friend-a man of treachery or a man of blood-deceiving his conscience, or rather attempting to blind his judgment by the plea, that in gratifying the passions which nature has planted within him, he does no more than follow nature.

The necessity of industry and application to success in every affair of life is so commonly acknowledged, that it is almost superfluous to reiterate its paramount importance. Useful truths, however, do not lose their force from frequency in the repetition of them; and it is a singular fact, that whilst all agree in its commendation as an abstract excellence, all, at the same time, lament the shortness of time. Yet, short as it is, most men have much more than they know what to do with. Life is often spent, either in doing nothing at all, in doing nothing to the purpose, or in doing nothing that we ought to do. We are always complaining that our days are few, and acting as though there would be no end of them. It is an excellent admonition, that we should enjoy the present time, without regretting the loss of that which is to come. The stranger to industry may possess, but he cannot enjoy-it is labour only which gives a relish to pleasure. It is hard to determine, whether indolence be a greater foe to virtue, to health, or to happiness. Inactive as it is in itself, its effects are powerfully fatal. It is like water, which first putrifies by stagnation, and then sends up noxious vapours, filling the atmosphere with death.

Equally understood, but, alas! much less exhibited in the conduct of life, are temperance and chastitythese invariably bring health, wisdom, and peace of mind, which are the greatest approaches to happiness

on this side the grave. Yet if many vices were not followed by pain, few would forbear them. We see every hour those in whom the desire of present indulgence overpowers all sense of past, and all foresight of future, misery. In a remission of the gout, the drunkard returns to his wine, and the glutton to his feast; and if neither disease nor poverty were felt or dreaded, every one would sink down in idle sensuality, without any care of others, or of himself. To eat and drink, and lie down to sleep, would be the whole business of mankind. Thus, even in worldly affairs, it is found to be a guide to health and riches; for it forbids indulgence in enervating luxuries, and inculcates economy in all the departments of life.

It will scarcely be requisite to dwell distinctively upon the remaining virtues, in the union of which alone, the rich treasures of happiness are to be found, such as candour, contentment, humanity, sober-mindedness, gratitude, and humility, since they are all comprised in that valuable scheme of religion, the excellence and advantage of which we have primarily endeavoured to enforce. Some of them, however, are deserving of individual remark, and especially the great duties of charity and benevolence. The latter is that ingenerate or instinctive feeling, which the Author of our being has most probably incited us to cultivate, by rendering its operations so essential to our felicity, and so necessary to our well-being. The former prevents us from being severe upon the faults of others at the moment we are neglecting our own. In its absence, we set up for reformers, declaim at the wickedness of the age, and are for instantly suppressing or punishing it by rigorous laws, whilst we are unwilling that any check or restraint should be put upon our own freedom; shewing thereby, how far we are from observing that great rule of equity, the loving our neighbour as ourselves, and from meting to others the same measure which we are content should be measured to us again. The assiduous cultivation, too, of a spirit of benevolence, is alone wanting, to unite us, by all the ties of sympathetic tenderness, as members

of one body, or children of the same family, notwithstanding the diversity of our talents, our tempers, our pursuits, and interests. The good Sir Thomas Browne says "I cannot contentedly frame a prayer for myself in particular, without a catalogue for my friends; nor request a happiness, wherein my sociable disposition doth not desire the fellowship of my neighbour. I never hear the toll of a passing-bell, though in my mirth, without my prayers and best wishes for the departing spirit. I cannot goe to cure the body of my patient, but I forget my profession, and call unto God for his soule. I cannot see any one say his prayers, but, instead of imitating him, I fall into a supplication for him, who perhaps is no more to me than a common nature: and, if God hath vouchsafed an ear to my supplications, there are surely many happy that never saw me, and enjoy the blessing of mine unknown devotions." To pray for enemies, that is, for their salvation, is no harsh precept, but the practice of our daily and ordinary devotions.

Such, then, is an outline of the conduct, which, if conscientiously adopted, and undeviatingly pursued, will secure the happiness of our present condition, and which, though it may not introduce us to all the pleasures that some are supposed to enjoy, will most assuredly exempt us from a multitude of evils with which the tablet of human life is generally checkered. As we advance forward into the crowds of life, innumerable delights solicit our inclinations, and innumerable cares distract our attention: . the time of youth is passed in noisy frolics; manhood is led on from hope to hope, and from project to project; the dissoluteness of pleasure, the inebriation of success, the ardour of expectation, and the vehemence of competition, chain down the mind alike to the present scene; nor is it remembered how soon this mist of trifles must be scattered, and the bubbles that float on the rivulet of life be lost for ever in the gulf of eternity. To this consideration scarcely any man is awakened, but by some pressing and resistless evil. The death of those from whom he derived his pleasures, or to whom he

destined his possessions,-some disease, which shews him the vanity of all external acquisitions, or the gloom of age, which intercepts his prospects of long enjoyment,-forces him to fix his hopes upon another state; and when he has contended with the tempests of life till his strength fails him, he flies at last to the shelter of religion. Let then this one universal good, to which so many fly as a last resort, be adopted as the basis upon which we mean to raise a superstructure of prosperity and happiness. After all that can be advanced by the philosopher, or enjoined by the moralist, religion is the talisman by which alone they can be secured. We may worship some ideal good, or consume our lives in the pursuit of some fancied blessing; but when once this amulet is lost, we shall be left, like the Princess of Balsoura when robbed of the good genius's gift, a prey to misfortune, disquietude, and chagrin.

If, therefore, the conclusion to be drawn from what has been advanced in favour of a religious and moral deportment, is, that happiness and pleasure must necessarily result from its adoption, the logical deduction must also be admitted, that an opposite course (whether it be marked by generally vicious characteristics, or by some false individual propensity) will be visited by those calamities which mankind have long denominated as the Miseries of Human Life. If piety, charity, integrity, humility, and generosity, are rewarded by the inestimable gifts of health, contentment, and success; it is reasonably supposed that irreligion, envy, dishonesty, pride, and covetousness, will entail disappointment, disease, and discontent. But when the two careers of vice and virtue are considered in reference to a future state of existence, a determined renunciation of the first becomes doubly imperative. "Wouldst thou learn to die nobly, let thy vices die before thee. Happy is he who endeth the business of his life before his death; who, when the hour cometh, hath nothing to do but to die; who wisheth not delay, because he hath no longer use for time. When death terminates a life which has been