through by the power. The screw is most commonly employed in pressing substances together, though it is sometimes used, as in the shipbuilder's jack, for raising weights. This account that we have endeavoured to give of the elements of machinery, is necessarily very imperfect; for without figures it is hardly possible to render such a description intelligible. Some may be inclined to consider the subject as altogether destitute of interest; but when we call to mind the beneficial effects produced by mechanical ingenuity-when we remember that, by the varied modifications and combinations of the simple contrivances we have enumerated, man is enabled to undertake those labours on which the comfort of civilized communities depends, we will view it in a very different light: and the Christian, while he gratefully adores the wisdom and goodness of the Creator, who has given us at once hands to execute, and minds to plan, will find yet deeper emotions awakened in his bosom, when he finds Jesus termed the carpenter, (Mark vi. 3;) when he remembers that the great Architect of the universe took on him our nature, and, labouring with his hands as an humble mechanic, engaged in forming machines like these. ACCELERATED AND RETARDED MOTION. Impulse and Percussion.In this branch of mechanics there are four things to be considered: F, the force, by which the motion is produced or destroyed; T, the time, during which the force acts; S, the space passed over during that time; and V, the total velocity communicated by an accelerating force, or destroyed by a retarding one. W, the weight or quantity of matter, bears the same proportion to the force as in uniform motion; and in the following propositions is considered as remaining always the same. Prop. I. When the time during which the force acts continues the same, the force, the velocity produced, and the space passed over, are all proportional to each other. Prop. II. When the force continues the same, the velocity and time are directly proportional to each other but the space described is proportioned to their squares. Prop. III. If the space continue the same, the time and velocity are inversely proportional to each other; while the force is directly as the square of the velocity, and inversely as the square of the time. Prop. IV. When the velocity continues the same, the space and time are directly proportional to each other, but inversely proportioned to the force. These propositions may be demonstrated and illustrated in various ways. Our limits, however, will only allow a short explanation of the fourth, on which the mechanical actions we are about to investigate more especially depend. A moment's reflection will shew, that in communicating a given velocity to any body, the longer it moves, while the velocity is acquiring, the greater is the space that it must pass over; while, on the other hand, the greater the space it passes through, the longer will it move. Now this is all we affirm when we say, that in this case the space and time are directly proportional to each other. Again, the force is inversely proportioned to the time, for this is only affirming that a double force will be required to produce the same effect in half the time, and a force three times as great to produce it in one-third of the time. And the space and time, being in this case, proportioned to each other, whatever relation the force bears to the one it must also bear to the other; that is, the same velocity, if communicated in half the space, will be communicated in half the time, and will therefore require a double force to produce it. These propositions are equally applicable to retarded motion as to accelerated; for by the two laws of motion, a body has the same tendency to continue in a state of motion as in a state of rest, while every change of state must have a corresponding force. It requires, therefore, the same force to destroy a motion, as to communicate it, providing the forces be uniform in their action, and the times and spaces in which they act be equal. In shewing the application of these propositions to mechanical actions, let us first make a hypothetical experiment. If we take a solid body, say a round stone of ten pounds weight, and let it fall from a height of ten feet, the force of gravitation, however often the experiment may be repeated, will always give it a certain velocity by the time it has fallen through that space. If after it has acquired this velocity, we suppose that gra vitation ceases to act, and that a uniform resistance, opposed to its further descent, destroys its velocity in the same time, or in the same space, as that in which it was communicated, the force required to stop the body will be the same as that which set it in motion, that is, equal to the power of gravitation acting on the body, or, as it is usually expressed, a pressure or weight of ten pounds. On this principle the motion of pendulums depends, the same force destroying, while they ascend, the velocity that it communicated in their descent. But again, if after the stone has acquired the given velocity, and gravitation has ceased to act, it be stopped while passing over half the space, the force required will be just double of what it was before; equal, that is to say, to a weight of twenty pounds. It is not, however, necessary, that before the retarding force begin, the accelerating force should cease; for, by the second law of motion, if two or more forces act upon a body at once, its position, at the end of any given time, will be the same as if they had acted upon it in succession for the given time. If, therefore, after the body has fallen through five feet, or half the given space, a uniform resistance be applied, which will destroy its motion by the time it has passed over the other five feet, the force required is exactly the same as before. Hence, if the stone be dexterously caught by the hands, at the height of five feet, and gradually stopped, so that, by the time it comes near the ground, its velocity is expended, it may be easily supported with out touching the ground at all, and the experiment, though apparently hazardous, may be performed without hurting the hands. If, instead of yielding thus freely to its impulse, the hands be kept so stiff as to destroy the velocity in a quarter of the time, the force required will be four times as great, or forty pounds, and the hands will receive a slight contusion, yet not such a one as can materially injure them. If, again, the hands be laid down on a soft bank, which will yield half a foot, or one-twentieth of the distance which the body fell through while its velocity was accelerating, the force will be twenty times as great, or 200 pounds, and the stroke will bruise the hand, but not break the bones. If the hand be laid on a rock, which will not yield at all, the motion must be destroyed while the hand is squeezing together; now, supposing that the hand may be so compressed, that its thickness shall be diminished one quarter of an inch, the velocity must be destroyed while the body passes through that distance, which being the 480th part of 10 feet, makes the force required 4800 pounds, a force which, it is almost needless to say, will break the bones. If, instead of the hand, a stone be substituted, which will yield only onesixteenth of an inch, (and few will yield so much,) the force required will be 19,200 pounds, by which the stone will be shattered to pieces, that is, if the body on which it rests, and that by which it is struck, be considered incompressible. If there be no yielding at all, so that the force is instantaneously destroyed, the force must evidently be infinite. In this manner we explain the effect of turf, sand, bags of wool, &c., in breaking a fall, and deadening the force of cannon balls. cohesion of the barrel; while gunpowder takes fire more slowly, produces the velocity more gradually, and consequently requires a much smaller exertion of power. A bullet passes through a door, swinging loosely on its hinges, without moving it at all; because the cohesion of the particles struck is altogether inadequate to communicate to the rest of the door the rapid motion of the bullet, in the exceeding short space and time in which, in this case, it must be done. For a similar reason, a pliant twig may be cut through by means of a smart blow, without being bent at all. It is on this principle of the force being inversely as the space, or time, taken to communicate or to destroy the velocity, that the advantage gained by employing hammers and similar tools depends. The velocity is communicated by the arm in a slow and gradual manner, while we draw the stroke; but is very quickly destroyed by hitting against the nail, and consequently the force required to stop it is much greater than that which put it in motion. The space, for example, through which the sledge hammer passes while swinging round the blacksmith's head, is probably more than a thousand times greater than that through which it goes, when its velocity is destroyed by striking the heated metal, and consequently the force required to stop it must be proportionably great. On the same hypothesis we explain the effect of a blow, whether given by a sword, a stick, a stone, or simply by the fist; the velocity in all these cases being slowly produced, and quickly destroyed. Many other illustrations of the properties of accelerIf we communicate the velocity quickly, the effect is ated motion might be brought forward; but enough has the same as if we stopped it in the same manner. If been adduced to shew the manner in which machines, we propel a stone by giving it a blow, the hand will be depending upon it, produce their effect, and to establish just as much pained as if it were afterwards to be struck the statement formerly made, that there can be no inby the stone thus set in motion. stantaneous action, and that all forces are of the nature of pressures. By the same rule, we can explain why a hammer of steel is better for driving in a nail than one of lead, or than a wooden mallet of the same weight; because being much less compressible, its motion is more rapidly checked, and its force upon the nail is greater. Again, we find it, if not impossible, at least extremely difficult, to drive a nail into a pliable board, such as a piece of lath, unless it be prevented from bending; because the board yielding to the stroke, the velocity is very gradually destroyed, and the force is not sufficient to overcome the resistance offered to the nail. From the same cause, a pliant branch can with difficulty be cut by the hatchet. The difference of force required to make a bolt go into a hole previously made for it, when a blow is used, and when simple pushing is employed, must have been remarked by every one. It must also have been observed, that a blow, though able to move the bolt a little, requires to be frequently repeated before it can be completely driven in, while a pressure able to move it at all forces it in at once. Here, (the hole being previously made,) the only resistance is friction. From the nature of friction we know, that whatever force is necessary to set a body in motion, it will require a much smaller one to keep it moving; a pressure which acts uniformly, if able to overcome the first, will consequently be able to overcome the second too, and the bolt is pushed in the whole length at once. When a blow, on the other hand, is given, the force being very great when the motion is stopped in a small space, is more than sufficient to overcome the friction when at its greatest, that is, when the bolt begins to move; but decreasing in proportion to the distance, it very soon becomes unable to overcome the resistance of friction when at its least, that is, after the bolt is in motion, and thus several blows are required, the distance the bolt is driven by each being very small. The fly-wheel, when employed to accumulate power, as in the apparatus for coining, affords another example of the effects that are produced when a motion slowly acquired is very suddenly stopped. The laws of accelerated motion may be employed to explain the facts, which, at first sight, seem to have no connection with it at all. For example, it has been found that fulminating powder cannot be used to discharge bullets, in the same manner as common gunpowder; because the quantity necessary to give the requisite speed will burst the gun. This is a necessary effect of its rapid explosion. From the extreme quickness with which it takes fire, it communicates motion to the bullet almost instantaneously, hence the force requisite to produce this motion is very great, and overcomes the On the same laws depend the effect of hatchets and similar tools, and also the important properties of the knife and saw. These last, however, in order to be fully understood, would require a more lengthened illustration than can now be given. And what has the knowledge of mechanism accomplished for man? Let us, for a moment, consider what he is without it, and what he becomes when it has lent him its aid, and the question will immediately be solved. If we pass through a country where the mechanic arts are unknown, we find either a forest or a wilderness. The trees, growing in rank luxuriance, defy the storms of ages, and seem destined to last till the end of time. The animals bound over the ground, free as the air they breathe. The streams rush unconfined down the declivities, or slumber in the marsh, as if guided but by fitful fancy. The uncultured soil produces in rank abundance, the noxious and the useless herb. The mineral wealth of the earth sleeps undisturbed in the bed wherein it was placed by the hand of the Creator. And man roams through the trackless waste, a helpless, homeless savage. But when the arts of civilization are introduced, the forest bends beneath the axe, and the monarchs of the wood fall before the ingenuity of a creature, whose unaided strength could not bend their feeblest bough. Waving fields of grain occupy the place of the leafy thicket, and the pathless jungle. The tyrants of the forest fall by the weapons of man; the ox, the horse, and the elephant, though stronger far than he, submit to his rein; while other tribes supply him with food, or minister clothing. The rocks are broken to build his cities, and the hardened ore melts in the furnace to form his tools. Nay, he presses the very elements into his service; he lays his hand on the streams and bids them labour; he compels the giant strength of the cataract, like Hercules of old, to turn the spindle; he makes the devouring flame become a servant, and the unfathomed occan a bearer of burdens. He The benefits conferred by science upon man are at once numerous and great. They may not, however, compare, for a moment, with those which the Bible bestows. Without a knowledge and belief of the truth of God, what is man? He is but the child of a day, spending the brief span of his existence in frivolous follies and vain pursuits, and fluttering, like the moth, about the flame that is speedily to consume him. may gather around him all the luxuries that art can supply; he may please his palate with the delicacies of distant climes; he may gratify his taste with all that is elegant, costly, and gorgeous; he may do more, he luxuriate on the richest intellectual feasts, he may indulge his imagination in the perusal of all that elegant literature can supply, he may exercise his reasoning powers in searching out the profundities of science; contemporary thousands may honour and praise him, and future ages may perpetuate his name; but the stroke may of death at last overtakes him, his dream of bliss is eminent for patience, and whose heart did not repast, and he awakes to woe. But with the Gospel for proach him, felt it difficult to suppress all emohis guide, man passes in safety through the chequered tions of impatience under the accumulated evils scene of earthly trial; though poverty frown, and adversity lour, he has a friend in his God, and knows an of poverty, disease, and bereavement of children; inward peace, which the world can neither give nor even he once lost the balance of his mind, and take away. When death approaches, it comes as the cursed the day of his birth. Still, however, such welcome messenger of heaven; it tells that sorrow is evils as these may be borne with more or less forover, and glory about to begin. The day of judgment titude. Custom reconciles to many things at first brings him an open acknowledgment and acquittal, and eternity perfects his bliss. He who was by nature the unpleasant. There is the hope of change for the child of wrath, becomes a citizen of the new Jerusa- better, the storm will not always last,-better lem, whose walls are built of precious stones, whose days may come. "Many are the afflictions of the streets are paved with gold, the city that hath founda- righteous: but the Lord delivereth him out of them tions, whose builder and maker is God. Admitted into all;" "afterwards the chastening, which is not joyunion with Jesus, he is one with Him, as He is one ous but grievous, yieldeth the peaceable fruit of with the Father; he beholds the brightness of Jeho-righteousness." Such reflections as these calm the vah's countenance, and glories in his love; his every feeling is transport, his every word is praise; for he bears the image of his glorified Redeemer, he shares in his throne, and is, like him, a king and a priest unto God for ever. If these be the gifts that the Gospel bestows, how shall we describe the folly of those who would exclude it from the thoughts of man, or give it but the second place? The language of earth has not terms sulliciently strong for designating folly so extreme; its character can only be expressed in the vocabulary of hell, and in the accents of eternal remorse. Science is good, exceeding good, if kept in its proper sphere; but it can never be a substitute for the truth of heaven. It may serve, like our artificial lights, to direct our labours, and to cast an occasional ray on the book of revelation; but he who puts it in the place that the Bible should hold, drags the sun from our moral firmament, and puts a twinkling taper in its room, brings the winter of desolation over all our hopes, obliterates the sunshine of the soul, and envelopes it in the darkness of endless night. THE CAUSES AND CURE OF A WOUNDED SPIRIT: BY THE REV. WILLIAM BURNS, "The spirit of a man will sustain his infirmity: but a Various are the evils which beset us,-disease, disappointment, loss of friends, the pressure of age, or of poverty. We say not that these are small or trivial evils; we assert not that they are easily sustained. On the contrary, we grant that they are very trying; and that all our philosophy, all our ease of natural temper, nay, even all our religious principles are thus put to a severe test, and that it is no small attainment to be able to bear up under these evils of life. Even Job, so | agitation of the soul, and thus, like David, the afflicted saints "encourage themselves in the Lord their God." But there is a far worse evil than any of these outward ones-heavy and severe as they often are, it is the wounded spirit-the mind at war with itself,—the lashes of an awakened conscience,-who can bear this? I. Let us describe a few of the causes of a wounded spirit. rit. 1. The spirit may be wounded from thoughtlessness and folly. Inconsideration, it has been said truly, is the death of souls. It may, with equal truth, be said of inconsideration, that it is the destruction of peace, and one cause of a wounded spirit. Some may think this to be a problem which requires solution,—how so innocent a matter, as they esteem it, should occasion such evils; how mere thoughtlessness and indiscretion should inflict such a wound in the most sensible and vital part. But only reflect a moment on the subject, only recollect a few examples, which, alas! every day presents, of the fatal effects of folly and of thoughtlessness, and you will see how it wounds the spiHow many, who exhibited, in early life, promising dispositions, and set out with every advantage, have had all their prospects darkened, their health ruined, their reputation blasted, by one, or a few instances of folly and inconsideration! Even though reflection should soon be awakened, the fatal step has been taken, and there is no retracing it. Indeed, one act of folly only paves the way for another; and the unhappy and deluded person is goaded on to other acts of criminality to keep up his credit, and hurried on in the way to destruction. He feels himself degraded, and irretrievably ruined. He sighs in vain for the ease and comfort of his early days. He reflects what he might have been, had he improved his advantages and opportunities; had he followed the dictates of sound wisdom and religion; had he made companions of the good, instead of the profligate; had he kept to innocent pleasures, instead of turning aside, first to the suspicious, and then to the more directly criminal. He sees what some are, how respected, and how comfortable, how healthy and happy,-who were his early companions, and who set out in life, it may be, with fewer advantages than himself. How he envies their unbroken constitutions, their happy domestic society, their peaceful hours, their useful and honourable career! How painful his reflections, how severe his self-reproach! "A wounded spirit who can bear!" satisfaction, so, on the contrary, the perpetration of wicked designs, and the actual execution of the revengeful and iniquitous purpose, imprints a deeper stain of malignity, and fixes the arrows of empoisoned and stinging reflection still more deeply in the heart. Nay, it is then frequently that the misery begins. Before, the busy succession of thought, and the fermentation produced by the passions, prevented the miserable victim of pride or of malice, from feeling his own misery. He is set upon revenge, and he says fore asleep, and its voice is terrible, its lash intolerable. The terrors of the Lord are set in array against him, "the poison whereof drinketh up his spirit." There needs no handwriting on the wall, nor apparition of the departed to appal him. There is an invincible, a secret tormentor; there is an avenger from within, far worse than any messenger or executioner which human laws can employ. Sometimes, it is true, the sinner is so hardened, and goes on in such a rapid and ceaseless course of vice, that he leaves no time for such reflections, and seems, in a great measure, insensible; yet the time will come when conscience will awake, and with tenfold fury. 2. The spirit is wounded by ungoverned passions. If the passions and affections be wisely and piously regulated, kept within bounds, and directed to proper objects, the mind is serene, as well as active, and life and society are blessings. But if the reins be let loose, if either pride, or anger, or revenge, or ambition, or any other disorderly and unruly passion obtain the mastery," revenge is sweet." He thinks only of being many, severe, and deep will be the wounds made satiated by the ruin of his hated adversary. But in the spirit; many words and actions, unwarrant- after the deed is done, then a thousand furies rise able and sinful; many gusts of unhallowed and up and at once pierce him with their darts. There destructive passions are excited, and these pro- is no more the sweetness of revenge, there is the duce effects which cannot easily be retrieved. bitterness of the heart, the stings of self-condemThey hurt the person himself who is their sub-nation. Guilt rouses conscience which was beject, in a more vulnerable part, and far more deeply than they hurt those against whom they are directed. They prey upon the vitals like a vulture; they produce the gall of asps within. Disappointed ambition, or insulted pride, or avarice despoiled of its object, inflicts a wound which is bitter indeed, and which reaches even to the heart, and often is the beginning of endless sorrow. Witness Cain, whose envy hurried him on to shed a brother's blood, and who, though not condemned to die, but having his life spared and insured to him by the divine declaration, yet carried about a hell within him, and said, " My punishment is greater than I can bear!" Witness Haman, who, in his prosperity, confessed (and how dreadful must have been his feelings when he came out with this confession) that all was unavailing, all embittered, so long as Mordecai the Jew sat at the king's gate! And witness Judas' despair, and self-destruction, after having secured the thirty pieces of silver, the price of innocent blood! These, it may be said, are extreme cases; but were the history of every individual known and recorded, every age would furnish examples of the same thing. Many lives are shortened, and many embittered and rendered miserable, by disordered and unruly passions. Many who keep the secret to themselves, and appear to others in some degree happy, have dreadful horrors, and carry about a fire within them: "this is a wounded spirit." 3. The spirit is wounded by a sense of guilt. The cases already stated indeed imply guilt. Folly and passion lead to crimes; but while they, in their own nature, and in the very admission of them into the heart, produce a wounded spirit, they also lead on to the commission of those more aggravated sins, which leave still a deeper and more incurable wound. As the very feeling and purpose of doing good gives rise to generous and delightful emotions, so, on the contrary, the indulgence of evil desires, and the formation of evil designs, imply a miserable state of mind. But as the actual exercise of beneficence, the fulfilment of good designs, gives still greater joy, and improves and perpetuates The cases we have here put, it is true, are of the more extreme kind, illustrative, however, of the nature and consequences of every sin; and there are cases of more ordinary occurrence which may be profitably introduced as illustrative of the same truth. Every careless and ungodly person has reason to dread the torment of a wounded spirit. When roused from his insensibility he will be forced to exclaim, "how have I hated instruction, and did not choose the fear of the Lord! How have I squandered away precious time, abused the mercies of God, despised the Gospel, derided serious things, ruined the peace of families, and plunged myself in misery!" O unhappy man! what peace can be in thy heart? A clear conscience is a continual feast; but here is an accusing conscience: here is self-loathing and selfcondemnation; here all is dark and lowering. The past is crowded with images of the sins of youth and of riper years; the future with fearful forebodings of fiery indignation from the presence of the Lord, and the glory of his power. The great day of wrath is coming, and who shall be able to stand! Such is a faint picture of a wounded spirit. Who can describe it? Who can bear it? "Who knoweth the power of God's anger?" says the Psalmist. Who knows the anguish of a wounded spirit,-of an awakened and accusing conscience ? But shall we go on? Is there any thing to be said farther? Or, shall we here break off, setting up the unhappy men, whose spirits are wounded, as beacons of warning to others, and leaving them to their fate? God forbid, there is no case to which the Gospel of Jesus Christ does not apply. I therefore proceed, soul, and horror of great darkness must collect, and there is no escaping. -a It is in this fearful state of mind, that the wretched victims of sin and of despair betake II. To point out the only remedy. But here themselves to the stimulating and stupifying dose I may be stopt short in the outset, by some who, to drive away, or quiet, reflection; and, awakenignorant of the Gospel, represent the very sug-ing from the feverish dream, the disease is aggragestion of any remedy, in such a case, as giving vated, reflections sting with more bitter anguish, and sanction to vice; as if to apply balm to a wound the final awful resort frequently is to self-destrucwere any encouragement to inflict wounds on tion. This is the history of most suicides,one's-self. No, my friends. That mercy may be sinful life; conscience roused; shame and selffound, is surely no inducement to any to become reproach beyond endurance; fortune, as well as or to continue sinful and miserable! We cannot, character, ruined; it may be, no friendly or pious therefore, think our duty discharged without en- adviser to soothe and to direct the unhappy sinner deavouring to direct the wounded to the physician. to the only relief; on the contrary, it may be, inThe deeper the wound, the more need of the re- fidel books, or infidel companions, administering medy. O ye whose hearts are wounded and bleed- their deadly draughts, which at one time tend to ing, who have not merely to sustain your infirmity, lull into a kind of false repose, and again increase but who have your conscience aroused, and who the fever of the brain, and goad on the miserable cannot bear the load of your own conscious vile- sinner to madness, when self-destruction appears a ness, who are pricked and galled in heart, and are refuge from present suffering; the everlasting crying out, "What shall we do?" we bring consequences of sin being dared or forgotten, even to you good tidings, if you will only believe amidst the storm and agitation of an awakened and embrace them. Your case, we agree with and wounded spirit. O! how much have they you, is desperate, if you look only to yourselves. to account for, who, by their example, or by their If you have nothing for it but unavailing grief and avowed opinions, patronise infidelity, and thus conlamentation, all idea of making any atonement of tribute to the ruin of souls! How valuable, in yourselves, for your past offences, is altogether in such circumstances, a kind and pious friend and vain. Your wound is indeed grievous and reaches adviser, to direct to the only true remedy; to to the heart, and no created aid can reach your open up, and then to administer to the healing of case. He only can compose the agitation of your the wounded spirit! To such let the afflicted, spirit, who said, "Son be of good cheer, thy sins awakened, distressed sinner betake himself. Brood are forgiven thee." He only can heal you, whose not in secret over your miseries and crimes; but "blood cleanseth from all sin," and who thus ad- seek also to disburthen your minds to a skilful dresses the heavy laden sinner, " Come to me and spiritual physician, who may direct you to the reI will give you rest." "As Moses lifted up the fuge of the lost, who may be the happy instruserpent in the wilderness, so was the Son of Man ment of leading you to the balm of Gilead, and to lifted up, that whosoever believeth in him might the physician there! not perish, but have everlasting life." Those only remain without a remedy, who either say they have no disease, or who say, that their wound is incurable; either the presumptuous or the despairing. As to Israel, so to every one the Lord says, "O man thou hast destroyed thyself, but in me is thy help found!" Still, let it be well considered that even although the deadly wound should be healed, yet the pain will not be wholly removed for many days to come. And the full measure of peace and of consolation can scarcely be enjoyed, even when sin is pardoned, by those who have sinned so heinously. For how can they ever forgive themselves the wrong they have done, the involving others in sin,-the unsettling of the principles of the young,—the hardening of others by evil example. Such must, in a degree, go mourning all their days, bearing the reproach of their youth, ashamed, yea even confounded. It is only by the healing balm of the Gospel, followed up by the exercise of deep genuine repentance and amendment, that, at length, peace can be restored. But while the remedy is rejected and the feeling of self-reproach leads not to inquiry after the way of escape, the end of these things is death; gloomy despair settles on the Let me now, in conclusion, call upon all of you to learn from this subject, 1. Not to faint in the day of adversity. Sustain your infirmity. Bodily distress, loss of substance, and indeed all the evils of life, are nothing to a wounded spirit; these are like the assaults of the storm from without, which penetrate not within. Even these, however, you cannot sustain without divine grace. Seek, therefore, the gracious influences of the Spirit of God, that you may be enabled to bear up under your burden, and aim at that great attainment, the well-founded persuasion, that all things shall work together for your good, as for one who loves God, and is effectually called according to his purpose. 2. Seek, above all things, to have God on your side, and your conscience your friend. Trust not, we beseech you, to your youthful innocence, falsely so called. Your youth is stained with many a sin, and there is within you a heart of stone. Trust not in your good education and family example, in your freedom from gross vice and vile licentiousness, or in your character, hitherto, it may be, untarnished. Many, alas! equally hopeful, have made shipwreck of all these, and been afterwards foremost in vice. There is |