of holiness, that at the same time that their wants are sup plied, their confusion of face may be prevented.

There is not an instance of this kind in history so af fecting as that beautiful one of Boaz to Ruth. He knew her family, and how she was reduced to the lowest ebb; when, therefore, she begged leave to glean in his fields, he ordered his reapers to let fall several handfuls, with a seeming carelessness, but really with a set design, that she might gather them up without being ashamed. Thus did he form an artful scheme, that he might give without the vanity and ostentation of giving; and she receive, with out the shame and confusion of making acknowledg ments. Take the history in the words of scripture, as it is recorded in the book of Ruth. "And when she was risen up to glean, Boaz commanded his young men, say. ing, let her glean even among the sheaves, and rebuke her not; and let fall also some of the handfuls on purpose, and leave them that she may glean them, and reproach her not." This was not only doing a good action; it was doing it likewise with a good grace,

It is not enough we do no harm, that we be negatively good! we must do good, positive good, if we would "enter into life." When it would have been as good for the world if such a man had never lived; it would perhaps have been better for him, if "he had never been born." A scanty fortune may limit your beneficene, and confine it chiefly to the circle of your domestics, relations and neighbours; but let your benevolence extend as far as thought can travel, to the utmost bounds of the world; just as it may be only in your power to beautify the spot of ground that lies near and close to you; but you could wish that as far as your eye can reach, the whole prospect before you were cheerful, every thing disagreeable were removed, and every thing beautiful made more so.

IV.-On Happiness.-STEARNE.

THE great pursuit of man is after happiness;—it is the first and strongest desire of his nature;-in every stage of his life he searches for it as for hid treasure, courts it under a thousand different shapes; and, though perpetually disappointed-still persists-runs after and inquires for it afresh-asks every passenger who comes.in

s way, "Who will show him any good ;"-who will asst him in the attainment of it or direct him to the disvery of this great end of all his wishes?

He is told by one, to search for it among the more gay id youthful pleasures of life; in scenes of mirth and rightliness, where happiness ever presides, and is ever be known by the joy and laughter which he will see at ce painted in her looks.

A second, with a graver aspect, points out to him the stly dwellings which pride and extravagance have erect1; tells the inquirer that the object he is in search of inibits there; that happiness lives only in company with e great, in the midst of much pomp and outward state. hat he will easily find her out by the coat of many colirs she has on, and the great luxury and expense of epage and furniture with which she always sits surround

The miser wonders how any one would mislead and ilfully put him upon so wrong a scent-convinces him at happiness and extravagance never inhabited under ae same roof;-that, if he would not be disappointed in is search, he must look into the plain and thrifty dwellag of the prudent man, who knows and understands the Forth of money, and cautiously lays it up against an evil lour. That it is not the prostitution of wealth upon the assions, or the parting with it at all that constitutes hapiness but that it is the keeping it together, and the havng and holding it fast to him and his heirs forever, which ire the chief attributes that form this great idol of human worship, to which so much incense is offered up every day. The epicure, though he easily rectifies so gross a mistake, yet, at the same time, he plunges him, if possible, into a greater; for hearing the object of his pursuit to be happiness, and knowing of no other happiness than what is seated immediately in his senses-he sends the inquirer there; tells him it is in vain to search elsewhere for it, than where nature herself has placed it-in the indulgence and gratification of the appetites, which are given us for that end: and in a word-if he will not take his opinion in the matter—he may trust the word of a much wiser man, who has assured us that there is nothing better in this world, than that a man should eat and drink, and rejoice*

in his works, and make his soul enjoy good in his laborfor that is his portion.

To rescue him from this brutal experiment-ambition takes him by the hand and carries him into the worldshows him all the kingdoms of the earth, and the glory of them-points out the many ways of advancing his fortune, and raising himself to honor-lays before his eyes ail the charms and bewitching temptations of power, and asks if there be any happiness in this world like that of being carressed, courted, flattered, and followed.

To close all, the philosopher meets him bustling in the full career of this pursuit-stops him-tells him, if he is in search of happiness, he has gone far out of his way :That this deity has long been banished from noise and tumults, where there was no rest found for her, and was fled into solitude, far from all commerce of the world; and, in a word, if he would find her, he must leave this busy and intriguing scene, and go back to that peaceful scene of retirement and books, from which he first set out.

In this circle, too often does a man run, tries all experiments, and generally sits down wearied and dissatisfied with them all at last-in utter despair of ever accomplishing what he wants-not knowing what to trust to after so many disappointments-or where to lay the fault, whether in the incapacity of his own nature, or the insufficiency of the enjoyments themselves.

In this uncertain and perplexed state-without knowledge which way turn, or where to betake ourselves for refuge so often abused and deceived by the many who pretend thus to show us any good-Lord! says the Psalmist, lift up the light of thy countenance upon us. Send us some rays of thy grace and heavenly wisdom, in this benighted search after happiness, to direct us safely to it. O God! let us not wander forever without a guide, in this dark region, in endless pursuit of our mistaken good; but enlighten our eyes that we sleep not in death -open to them the comforts of thy holy word and religion-lift up the light of thy countenance upon us-and make us know the joy and satisfaction of living in the true faith and fear of Thee, which only can carry us to this haven of rest, where we would be-that sure haven where true joys are to be found, which will at

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length not only answer all our expectations-but satisfy the most unbounded of our wishes, forever and ever.

There is hardly any subject more exhausted, or which, at one time or other, has afforded more matter for argument and declamation, than this one, of the insufficiency of our enjoyments. Scarce a reformed sensualist, from Solomon down to our own days, who has not, in some fits of repentance or disappointment, uttered some sharp reflection upon the emptiness of human pleasure, and of the vanity of vanities which discovers itself in all the pursuits of mortal man. But the mischief has been, that, though so many good things have been said, they have generally had the fate to be considered, either as the overflowings of disgust from sated appetites, which could no longer relish the pleasures of life, or as the declamatory opinions of recluse and splenetic men who had never tasted them at all, and consequently were thought no judges of the mat

ter.

So that it is no great wonder, if the greatest part of Such reflections however just in themselves, and founded on truth and a knowledge of the world, are found to have little impression where the imagination was already heated with great expectations of future happiness; and that the best lectures that have been read upon the vanity of the world, so seldom stop a man in the pursuit of the objects of his desire, or give him half the conviction that the possession of it will, and what the experience of his own life, or a careful observation upon the life of others, does at length generally confirm to us all.

I would not be understood as if I were denying the reality of pleasures, or disputing the being of them, any more than any one would the reality of pain; yet I must observe, that there is a plain distinction to be made betwixt pleasure and happiness. For though there can be no happiness without pleasure-yet the reverse of the proposition will not hold true. We are so made, that from the common gratifications of our appetites, and the impressions of a thousand objects, we snatch the one like a transient gleam, without being suffered to taste the other, and enjoy the perpetual sunshine and fair weather, which constantly attend it. This, I contend, is only to be found in religion-in the consciousness of virtue-andthe sure and certain hopes of a better life, which brightens

all our prospects, and leaves no room to dread disa pointments-because the expectation of it is built upon rock, whose foundations are as deep as those of heaven o hell.

And though in our pilgrimage through this world-som of us may be so fortunate as to meet with some clea fountains by the way, that may cool for a few moment the heat of this great thirst of happiness-yet our Savio who knew the world, though he enjoyed but little o it, tells us, that whosoever drinketh of this water wi thirst again; and we all find by experience it is so, an by reason that it always must be so.

I conclude with a short observation upon Solomon's e idence in this case.

Never did the busy brain of a lean and hectic chymis search for the philosopher's stone, with more pains an ardour than this great man did after happiness. He wa one of the wisest inquirers into nature-had tried all he powers and capacities; and after a thousand vain spec lations and idle experiments, he affirmed at length it la hid in no one thing he had tried; like the chymist's pro jections, all had ended in smoke, or, what was worse, i vanity and vexation of spirit. The conclusion of the whol matter was this-that he advises every man who woul be happy, to fear God and keep his commandments.

V.-On the Death of Christ.-BLAIR.

THE redemption of man is one of the most gloriou works of the Almighty. If the hour of the creation of the world was great and illustrious; that hour, when, from the dark and formless mass, this fair system of nature a cross at the Divine command; when "the morning star sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy;"no less illustrious is the hour of the restoration of the world; the hour when, from condemnation and misery, emerged into happiness and peace. With less externa majesty it was attended, but is, on that account, the mor wonderful, that, under an appearance so simple,.suc great events were covered.

In the hour of Christ's death, the long series of prophe cies, visions, types and figures, was accomplished. Thi was the centre in which they all met; this, the point to