accidental, or from what is inward and indicative of disease. Should it proceed, for instance, from uneasiness of posture, or from any thing hard, or sharp-pointed in the bed, he has only to rise, or shift his position, and all be well. But if the pain originate in no such cause, he has then ascertained that his body is, more or less, distempered ; and that, till a more radical remedy be found, he will, in spite of change of place or posture, carry his pain along with him. So it is with the soul. The happiness which religion imparts, is moral soundness, and spiritual health. But there are afflictions, against which the most perfect sanity of soul is no security. The great Physician cures all inward maladies; and this is the happiness which he both promises and gives to those who come to him. Nevertheless they, like others, are born to trouble, as the sparks fly upward. The difference is, that, in the one case, there is disease within; and to whatever regions that soul may travel, it will carry with it the worm that dieth not, and the fire that is not quenched. In the other case the soul is healthful, and is in itself a happy being. All its sufferings arise from accidental hinderances and foreign causes; and therefore, when it leaves the body, and passes into brighter regions, it will bid farewell, for ever, to pain and sorrow.

II. ON THE APPARENT INCREDIBILITY OF SCRIPTURE MIRACLES.

There are various miracles recorded in Scripture, as in the instances of Gideon and Samson, which appear startling to many minds. But I believe that this arises from the habit of considering them, insensibly to ourselves, as inventions rather than as facts. And here an important distinction is to be made. If we view such an account, for example, as that of Samson destroying a thousand Philistines with the jaw-bone of an ass, in the light of an artificial story, nothing can be more ludicrous. No writer who had a fiction to invent, could have put so whimsical and unaccountable a weapon into his hero's hand, for any purpose but that of turning him into ridicule. But only consider the relation to be a real fact. Suppose yourself an eye-witness of the scene. Suppose you behold the Israelitish champion, alone and unarmed, in the midst of a hostile multitude; that you saw him, as it were, visited by an inspiration, which elevated him above mortal courage, or mortal power; that you saw him, in this state of supernatural excitement, cast about him for some instrument of defence; that none presents itself but the weapon recorded; that he seizes it, and lays a thousand enemies prostrate at

his feet. Thus the whole action, almost in exact proportion as it would be ludicrous in fiction, rises, as a reality, into the truest sublime.

III. ON BEING ASHAMED OF CHRIST.

It is a remarkable and melancholy fact, that Christianity has generated in the human breast a new sense or passion, namely, that of being ashamed of God. That men should view the Almighty with terror and alarm; that they should be vain or boastful of his supposed favours; that the wicked should hate him for his purity; nay, that the fool should say in his heart, "There is no God;" all this is more or less accountable. But that worms of the earth shall be ashamed of that Being whom all the angels worship, is what we might well conceive impossible, were not its existence too palpably proved by facts. The proofs are before our eyes: for, wonderful to say, this strange fatuity is to be found amongst the professors of the pure Gospel of Christ, amongst them alone. And thus, while the votaries of the most senseless superstitions glory in their shame, the worshippers of the true God are ashamed of their glory. In ancient Greece and Rome, the gods were honoured with open and ostentatious

display. Amongst the Hindoo and other nations of the East, religious rites are matters of pomp and magnificent parade. The Mahometan boasts of the unity of God, and glories in the name of the false prophet. The Jews performed their devotions in the corners of the streets, and for a pretence made long prayers. The Romanist carries the host in triumph through the public ways. It is, in a word, the professors of the true faith alone, who know what it is to be ashamed of their religion. Whence this cowardice, this proneness in the soldiers of the cross to desert their standard? It is because their standard is the cross. Other religions are "of the world." They tread with confidence, because they tread on friendly ground. But the Captain of our salvation was despised and crucified. The religion which he taught is a religion of purity, of humility, and of deadness to the world. It is opposed to, and by, "the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life." This, then, is the reason why so many who are called Christians, are ashamed of their religion and their God; and are unwilling, by a bold confession, to draw upon themselves the scorn and enmity of a proud and sensual world.

IV. ON THE TENDENCY OF RELIGION TO UNITE, AND OF IRRELIGION TO DISUNITE.

It is remarkable how worldly habits cut off the several branches of the human family from each other; and, on the other hand, how true religion links them together, and brings them into one. Many proofs of this might be given, but I shall content myself with a single instance. From the earliest youth to the latest age, the children of this world seem, at every stage of their advance, to lose all sympathy of feeling, and all community of interest, with the classes which they successively leave behind them. Thus the schoolboy, proud of cruelty and coarseness, disdains the nursery, and scorns the simplicity of what he now calls children. In like manner the college youth, advanced in maturer vices, throws off the companionship of the schoolboy, and considers his familiarity as impertinence. Again, the man who has entered the lists, and become a candidate for the high prizes of ambition, has lost all relish for the things he loved at college, and consequently all sympathy with those who love them still. In this manner does the work of division progress, till the wheel goes round; till old age meets the weakness and folly of infancy again, and is shoved