That the convictions of religion form the great foundation of moral conduct,

that piety, in itself, is fitted to exalt the human mind to its greatest degree of virtuous perfection, are truths which every one acknowledges, and which the experience of mankind sufficiently proves.→→ But the misfortune is, that, in general, religion is acquired too late in life, to produce all the effects on the mind which it is fitted to have; and that thus, instead of forming the character, it is itself formed by it. The habits of worldly pursuit have, ere this period occurs, contracted the mind to narrow views, and sordid occupations. The ambition, which once grasped at excellence, and which thought no honours were impossible to be obtained in the conflict of human life, has, ere this, expired under the daily pressure of trivial cares, and the daily demand of unimportant exertions. The testimony of

conscience has, long before now, armed the Deity with terror, and extinguished all the fascinating views which immortality affords, in the gloom with which it now is covered. At such a period of life, religion is embraced, rather because it is necessary, than because it is pleasing. It is an occasional, rather than a permanent affection, which comes rather to console the hours of distress, when every other comfort leaves us, than to influence the general thoughts, and animate the general conduct. To most men, accordingly, the best effects of religion are altogether unknown. It mingles not in their daily pursuits, nor softens their usual duty. It is banished from their thoughts in the days of happiness and tranquillity, and is sought after only when misfortunes press, or diseases alarm. It possesses, therefore, only a negative effect on their conduct or character. It intimidates them, perhaps,

from great violations of duty,-but it stimulates them to no positive virtue. It terrifies them by the prospect of punishment, but it excites them to no ambition of doing well. It is a slavish and a timid service, and not "the glorious liberty of "the sons of God."

The piety which is formed in youth has a different character, and leads to very different effects. It springs in the first and purest state of the human mind, when the soul comes fresh from the hands of its Creator, and when no habits of life have contracted the reach of its powers. It comes in that happy season, when life is new, and hope unbroken; when nature seems everywhere to rejoice around, and when the love of God rises unbidden in the soul. It comes not, then, to terrify or to alarm, but to afford every high and pleasing prospect in which the heart can indulge, to withdraw the veil which co

vers the splendours of the Eternal Mind,— to open that futurity which awakens all their desires to behold, and, in the sublime occupations of which they feel already, as by some secret inspiration, the home and destiny of their souls. At such a period, religion is not a service of necessity, but of joy. It is not an occasional, but a permanent subject of meditation, a subject which can fill their solitary hours with rapture; which involuntarily occurs to them in every season, when their hearts are disposed to feel; and to which they willingly return from all the disappointments or follies of life, and resume again their unblemished joys.

If there be a moment in human life, in which the foundation of virtuous character can be laid, it is at this period. If there be a discipline which can call forth every nobler faculty of the soul, it is such early exercises of piety. They establish

a tone and character of thought, which is allied to every virtuous purpose. They present those views of man, and of the ends of his being, which awaken the best powers of the soul. They afford those prospects of the Providence of God, which can best give support and confidence to virtue.

1. The first advantage of youthful piety is, that it tends to establish that tone and character of thought which is allied to every virtuous purpose. There is no man perhaps, who, in some fortunate moments of thought, has not felt his mind raised above its usual state, by religious considerations. There are hours in every man's life, when religion seems to approach him in all her radiance; when its truths break upon his mind with a force which cannot be resisted; and when, in the contemplation of them, he feels his bosom swell with