passed for a moment, and concealed the brightness of heaven from our view-but it is gone. And where will ye be, my hearers, when your lives have passed away like that dark cloud? Oh, my dear friends, I see thousands sitting attentive, with their eyes fixed on the poor, unwor thy preacher. In a few days, we shall all meet at the judgment-seat of Christ. We shall form a part of that vast assembly that will gather before the throne; and every eye will behold the judge. With a voice whose call you must abide and answer, he will inquire whether on earth ye strove to enter in at the strait gate; whether you were supremely devoted to God; whether your hearts were absorbed in him. My blood runs cold when I think how many of you will then seek to enter in, and shall not be able. Oh, what plea can you make before the Judge of the whole earth? Can you say it has been your whole endeavour to mortify the flesh, with its affections and lusts ? that your life has been one long effort to do the will of God? No! you must answer, I made myself easy in the world by flattering myself that all would end well; but I have deceived my own soul, and am lost.

"You, O false and hollow Christian, of what avail will it be that you have done many things; that you have read much in the sacred word; that you have made long prayers; that you have attended religious duties, and appeared holy in the eyes of men? What will all this be, if, instead of loving Him supremely, you have been supposing you should exalt yourself in heaven by acts really polluted and unholy?

“And you, rich man, wherefore do you hoard your silver? wherefore count the price you have received for him whom you every day crucify in your love of gain? Why, that, when you are too poor to buy a drop of cold water, your beloved son may be rolled to hell in his chariot pillowed and cushioned around him."

His eye gradually lighted up, as he proceeded, till, towards the close, it seemed to sparkle with celestial fire. "Oh, sinners!" he exclaimed, "by all your hopes of happiness, I beseech you to repent. Let not the wrath of God be awakened. Let not the fires of eternity be kindied against you. See there"" said he, pointing to the

lightning, which played on the corner of the pulpit—" "Tis a glance from the angry eye of Jehovah! Hark!" continued he, raising his finger in a listening attitude, as the distant thunder grew louder and louder, and broke in one tremendous crash over the building. "It was the voice of the Almighty as he passed by in his anger !"

As the sound died away, he covered his face with his hands, and knelt beside his pulpit, apparently lost in inward and intense prayer. The storm passed rapidly away, and the sun, bursting forth in his might, threw across the heavens a magnificent arch of peace.. Rising, and pointing to the beautiful object, he exclaimed, "Look upon the rainbow, and praise him that made it. Very beautiful it is in the brightness thereof. It compasseth the heavens about with glory; and the hands of the Most High have bended it."

The effect was astonishing. Even Somerville shaded his eyes when he pointed to the lightning, and knelt as he listened to the approaching thunder; while the deep sensibility of Grace, and the thoughtless vivacity of Lucretia, yielded to the powerful excitement in an unrestrained burst of tears. "Who could resist such eloquence?" said Lucretia, as they mingled with the departing throng.

Anecdote of Dr. Chauncy.-TUDOR.

DR. COUPER, who was a man of accomplished manners, and fond of society, was able, by the aid of his fine talents, to dispense with some of the severe study that others engaged in. This, however, did not escape the envy and malice of the world, and it was said, in a kind of petulant and absurd exaggeration, that he used to walk to the southend of a Saturday, and, if he saw a man riding into town in a black coat, would stop, and ask him to preach the next day. Dr. Chauncy was a close student, very absent, and very irritable. On these traits in the character of the two clergymen, a servant of Dr. Chauncy laid a scheme for obtaining a particular object from his master. Scipio went into his master's study one morning to receive some

directions, which the doctor having given, resumed his writ-
ing, but the servant still remained. The master, looking
up a few minutes afterwards, and supposing he had
just come in, said, "Scipio, what do you want?" "I want
a new coat, massa." "Well, go to Mrs. Chauncy, and
tell her to give you one of my old coats;" and was again
absorbed in his studies. The servant remained fixed. Af-
ter a while, the doctor, turning his eyes that way, saw him
again, as if for the first time, and said, "What do you want,
Scip.?" "I want a new coat, massa.' "Well, go to my
wife, and ask her to give you one of my old coats;" and
fell to writing once more. Scipio remained in the same
posture. After a few moments, the doctor looked towards
him, and repeated the former question, "Scipio, what do
you want?" "I want a new coat, massa.' It now flashed
over the doctor's mind, that there was something of repe-
tition in this dialogue. "Why, have I not told you before
to ask Mrs. Chauncy to give you one? get away." "Yes,
"Not want a black
massa, but I no want a black coat."

coat! why not?” "Why, massa,-I 'fraid to tell you,—
but I don't want a black coat." "What's the reason you
don't want a black coat? tell me directly." "O! massa,
I don't want a black coat, but I 'fraid to tell the rea-
son, you so passionate." "You rascal! will you tell me
the reason?" "O! massa, I'm sure you be angry." "If
I had my cane here, you villain, I'd break your bones:
will you tell me what you mean?” "I'fraid to tell you,
massa; I know you be angry." The doctor's impatience
was now highly irritated, and Scipio, perceiving, by his
glance at the tongs, that he might find a substitute for the
cane, and that he was sufficiently excited, said, “Well,
massa, you make me tell, but I know you be angry-I
'fraid, massa, if I wear another black coat, Dr. Cooper ask
me to preach for him!" This unexpected termination re-
alized the servant's calculation; his irritated master burst
into a laugh," Go, you rascal, get my hat and cane, anu
tell Mrs. Chauncy she may give you a coat of any colour;
a red one if you choose." Away went the negro to his
mistress, and the doctor to tell the story to his friend, Dr.
Cooper.

Effects of a Dissolution of the Federal Union.—
HAMILTON.

ASSUMING it, therefore, as an established truth, that, in case of disunion, the several states, or such combinations of them as might happen to be formed out of the wreck of the general confederacy, would be subject to those vicissi tudes of peace and war, of friendship and enmity with each other, which have fallen to the lot of all other nations not united under one government, let us enter into a concise detail of some of the consequences that would attend such a situation.

War between the states, in the first periods of their separate existence, would be accompanied with much greater distresses than it commonly is in those countries where regular military establishments have long obtained. The disciplined armies always kept on foot on the continent of Europe, though they bear a malignant aspect to liberty and economy, have, notwithstanding, been productive of the singular advantage of rendering sudden conquests impracticable, and of preventing that rapid desolation, which used to mark the progress of war prior to their introduction. The art of fortification has contributed to the same ends. The nations of Europe are encircled with chains of fortified places, which mutually obstruct invasion. Campaigns are wasted in reducing two or three fortified garrisons, to gain admittance into an enemy's country. Similar impediments occur at every step, to exhaust the strength, and delay the progress, of an invader. Formerly, an invading army would penetrate into the heart of a neighbouring country almost as soon as intelligence of its approach could be received; but now, a comparatively small force of disci. plined troops, acting on the defensive, with the aid of posts, is able to impede, and finally to frustrate, the purposes of one much more considerable. The history of war in tha quarter of the globe is no longer a history of nations sub dued, and empires overturned; but of towns taken and re taken, of battles that decide nothing, of retreats more ben. eficial than victories, of much effort and little acquisit on.

In this country the scene would be altogether reversed. The jealousy of military establishments would postpone them as long as possible. The want of fortifications, leaving the frontier of one state open to another, would facilitate inroads. The populous states would with little difficulty overrun their less populous neighbours. Conquests would be as easy to be made as difficult to be retained. War, therefore, would be desultory and predatory. Plunder and devastation ever march in the train of irregulars. The calamities of individuals would ever make the principal figure in events, and would characterize our exploits.

This picture is not too highly wrought; though, I confess, it would not long remain a just one. Safety from external danger is the most powerful director of national conduct Even the ardent love of liberty will, after a time, give way to its dictates. The violent destruction of life and property incident to war, the continual effort and alarm attendant on a state of continual danger, will compel nations the most attached to liberty to resort for repose and security to institutions, which have a tendency to destroy their civil and political rights. To be more safe, they, at length, become willing to run the risk of being less free. The institutions chiefly alluded to are STANDING ARMIES, and the corresponding appendages of military establishments. Standing armies, it is said, are not provided against in the new constitution; and it is thence inferred that they would exist under it. This inference, from the very form of the proposition, is, at best, problematical and uncertain But standing armies, it may be replied, must inevitably result from a dissolution of the confederacy. Frequent wai and constant apprehension, which require a state of as constant preparation, will infallibly produce them. The weaker states or confederacies would first have recourse to them, to put themselves on an equality with their more potent neighbours. They would endeavour to supply the inferiority of population and resources by a more regular and effective system of defence,-by disciplined troops, and by fortifications. They would, at the same time, be obliged to strengthen the executive arm of government; in doing which their constitutions would require a progressive direction towards monarchy. It is the nature of war to in