I. ET your promifes be fincere, and fo prudently confidered, as not to exceed the reach of your ability: he who promises more than he is able to perform, difgraces himself; and he who does not perform what he has promifed, is falfe to his friend.

THE immortal mind, perhaps, will quit a cottage with lefs regret than it would leave the fplendour of a palace; and the breathlefs duft fleep as quietly beneath the graffy turf, as under the parade of a coftly monument. These are infignificant circumftances, to a fpirit doomed to an endless duration of mifery or bliss.

AS the belief of a God is the foundation of all religion, there can be no religion without faith; but as true religion includes virtue, religion cannot be perfect without works.

AMAZ'D, the wonders of thy God behold!
And meditate his mercies manifold.

Oh! happy time, when fhaking off this clay,
The human foul at liberty shall stray
Thro' all the works of nature! fhall descry
Those objects which evade the mortal eye.
No distance, then, fhall ftretch beyond its flight,
No fmallness 'fcape its penetrating fight;
But, in their real effence, fhall be fhewn,
Worlds unexplor'd, creations yet unknown.

REFLECTION S.

WHAT, oh! my heart, overflowing with happinefs! are the fentiments that ought to fpring up in thee, when admitted, either in the folemnities of public worfhip, or the retiredness of private devotion, into the more immediate prefence of thy Maker, who does not govern, but to blefs! whofe divine commands are fent to fuccour human reafon in search of happiness! Let thy law, Almighty! be the rule, and thy glory the conftant

E 2

end,

end, of all I do. Let me not build virtue on any notions of honour, but of honour to thy name. Let me not fink piety in the boast of benevolence; my love of God in the love of my fellow-creatures. Can good be of human growth? No; it is thy gift, Almighty, and All-good! Let not thy bounties remove the donor from my thought; nor the love of pleasures make me forfake the fountain from which they flow. When joys entice, let me afk their title to my heart; when evils threaten, let me fee thy mercy fhining through the cloud, and difcern the great hazard of having all to my wifh. In an age of fuch licentiousness, let me not take comfort from the number of thofe who do amifs; an omen rather of public ruin, than of private fafety. Let the joys of the multitude lefs allure than alarm me; and their danger, not example, determine my choice. In this day of domineering pleasures, fo lower my tafte, as to make me relish the comforts of life. And in this day of diffipation, O give me thought fufficient to preferve me from being fo defperate, as in this perpetual flux of things, and as perpetual fwarm of accidents, to depend on tomorrow; a dependence that is the ruin of to-day, as that is of eternity. Let my whole existence be ever be. fore me, nor let the terrors of the grave turn back my furvey. When temptations arife, and virtue ftaggers, let imagination found the final trumpet, and judgment lay hold on eternal life. In what is well begun, grant me to perfevere, and to know, that none are wife, but they who determine to be wiser ftill. And fince, O Lord! the fear of thee is the beginning of wisdom, and, in its progrefs, its fecret fhield, turn the world intirely out of my heart, and place that guardian angel, thy bleffed fear, in its ftead. Turn out a foolish world, which gives its money for what is not bread; which hews out broken cifterns, that hold no water; a world, in which even they, whofe hands are mighty, have found nothing. There is nothing, Lord God Almighty! in heaven, in earth, but thee I will feek thy face; blefs thy name; fing thy praifes; love thy law; do thy will; enjoy thy peace; hope thy glory, till my final hour!

Thus

Thus fhall I grafp all that can be grafped by man. This will heighten good, and soften evil, in the prefent life; and when death fummonfes, I fhall fleep fweetly in the duft, till his mighty Conqueror bids the trumpet found, and then shall I, through his merits, awake to eternal glory.

ALL pleasures are imperfect here below;
Our sweetest joys are mix'd with bitter woe;
The draught of blifs, when in our goblet caft,
Is dash'd with grief, or spilt before we taste.

CONTENTED poverty's no difmal thing,
Free from the cares unwieldy riches bring.
At distance, both alike deceive our view;
Nearer approach'd, they take another hue.
The poor man's labour relishes his meat;
His morfel's pleasant, and his rest is sweet:
Not fo the rich, who find their weary'd tafte
Pall'd with the profpect of the cumb'rous feaft;
For what they have more than they can enjoy,
Inftead of fatisfying, does but cloy.

The Divine Prefence.

THE high and mighty King of kings
Whose praise the whole creation fings,
Hath fix'd, in love to human kind,
His bleffed image in our mind.-
The lines are ftrong, the picture fair,
No need of anxious fearch and care;
Look but within, and strait appears,
The fignature all nature wears!

Where'er I am, howe'er oppreft,
This Heav'nly protrait in my breast
Infpires, with confidence divine,
And comfort flows from ev'ry line!
Thro' dangers numberless I go,
Yet weather all the ftorms that blow-
To lead me to the peaceful fhore,
My God and guide is ftill before!

At night, before
close my eyes,
And in the morning, when I rife,
I pray for fafety, health, and grace,
And ftill the Lord before me place!
He fheds his odours round my head,
And makes me fleep fecure in bed;
In all the labours of the day,
He goes before and points the way y!
Soon as my paffions wild prevail,
And faith and reafon both affail;
When ftrong temptations fpread their net,
Before me ftill the Lord I fet;

His prefence can the paffions lay,
And teach them reafon to obey;
Temptation's charms foon difappear,
And truth fucceeds when God is near!
When forrows upon forrows roll,
And sharpeft arrows pierce my foul;
When deepest funk in black despair,
I lift my eyes and heart in pray'r!
Juft when all human help had fail'd,
And friend and neighbour nought avail'd,
This best of friends, in conftant view,
Shews what himself alone can do!

Thro' all the future ills of life,
Amidst contempt, reproach, and ftrife,
I'll fet the Lord before me ftill,
And live obedient to his will!

So when thro' death's dark vale I move,
He will a light before me prove;
Conduct me fafe to endless joy,

And mark me out fome bleft employ.

WHEN the oil of grace actuates the foul, the wheels of obedience move with celerity; but when this is wanting, every duty, if not neglected, will be indifferently performed.

TRUE

TRUE happiness is of a retired nature, and an enemy to pomp and noife: it arifes, in the first place, from the enjoyment of one's felf; and, in the next, from the friendship and converfation of a few felect companions. It loves fhade and folitude, and naturally haunts groves and fountains, fields and meadows: in fhort, it feels every thing it wants within itself, and receives no addition from multitudes of witneffes and fpectators. On the contrary, false happiness loves to be in a crowd, ånd to draw the eyes of the world upon her. She does not receive any fatisfaction from the applaufes which the. gives herself, but from the admiration which the raises in others. She flourishes in courts and palaces, theatres. and affemblies; and has no existence, but when she is looked upon.

IF good we plant not, vice will fill the mind,
And weeds defpoil the space for flow'rs defign'd.
The human heart ne'er knows a ftate of reft,
Bad tends to worse, and better leads to best:
We either gain or lofe, we fink or rife,
Nor refts our struggling nature till the dies.
Those very paffions that our peace invade,
If rightly pointed, bleffings may be made.
Then rife, my friend, above terrestrial aims,
Direct the ardour which your breast inflames,
To that pure region of eternal joys,

Where fear difturbs not, nor poffeffion cloys;
Beyond what fancy forms of rofy bow'rs,
Or blooming chaplets of unfading flow'rs;
Fairer than e'er imagination drew,
Or poets warmeft vifions ever knew:
Prefs eager onward to thofe blifsful plains,
Where one unbounded fpring for ever reigns!

LEARN to pursue virtue from the man that is blind, who never makes a ftep, without first examining the ground with his staff.