fan would dissipate the rising vapours, and not suffer them to form a coalition: but, favoured by the stillness, and condensed by the coolness of the night, they unite in pearly drops, and create that finely tempered humidity which cheers the vegetable world as sleep exhilirates the animal.

Not unlike to these are the advantages of solitude. The world is a troubled ocean, and who can erect stable purposes on its fluctuating waves? The world is a school of wrong, and who does not feel himself warping to its pernicious influences? On this sea of glasst, how insensibly we slide from our own stedfastness! Some sacred truth, which was struck in lively characters on our souls, is obscured, if not obliterated. Some worthy resolution, which Heaven had wrought in our breast, is shaken, if not overthrown. Some enticing vanity, which we had solemnly renounced, again practises its wiles, and again captivates our affections. How often has an unwary glance kindled a fever of irregular desire in our hearts? How often has a word of applause dropt luscious poison into our ears, or some disrespectful expression raised a gust of passion in our bosoms? Our innocence is of so tender a constitution, that it suffers in the promiscuous crowd; our purity is of so delicate a complexion that it scarce touches on the world without contracting a stain. We see, we hear, with peril.

But here safety dwells: every meddling and intrusive avocation is secluded. Silence holds the door against the strife of tongues, and all the impertinences of idle conversation. The busy swarm of vain images and cajoling temptations which beset us, with a buzzing importunity, amidst the gaieties of life, are chased by these thickening

Nunquam a turba mores, quos extuli, refero. Aliquid, ex eo quod composui, turbatur: aliquid, ex his quæ fugavi, redit. Inimica est multorum conversatio, Seneca.

↑ Rev. xv. 2.

shades. Here I may, without disturbance, commune with my own heart, and learn that best of sciences to know myself. Here the soul may rally her dissipated powers, and grace recover its native energy. This is the opportunity to rectify every evil impression, to expel the poison, and guard against the contagion of corrupting examples. This is the place where I may, with advantage, apply myself to subdue the rebel within; and be master, not of a sceptre, but of myself.-Throng then, ye ambitious, the levees of the powerful; I will be punctual in my assignations with solitude. To a mind intent upon its own improvement, solitude has charms incomparably more engaging than the entertainments presented in the theatre, or the honours conferred in the drawing-room.

I said, solitude.-Am I then alone?-Tis true, my acquaintance are at a distance: I have stole away from company, and am remote from all human observation. But that is an alarming thought:

Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth,

Unseen, both when we wake, and when we sleep. Perhaps there may be numbers of those invisible beings patrolling this same retreat, and joining with me in contemplating the Creator's works. Perhaps those ministering spirits, who rejoice at the conversion of a sinner, and hold up the goings of the righteous, may follow us to the lonely recess; and, even in our most solitary moments bo our constant attendants.-What a pleasings awakened by such a reflection! How venerable it renders my retired walks! I am struck with reverence, as under the roof of some sacred edifice, or in the presence-chamber of some mighty monarch.-O! may I never bring any pride of imagi nation, nor indulge the least dissolute affection, where such refined and exalted intelligences exercise their watch!

Milt. Par. Lost, b. ir. l. 677.

"Tis possible, that I am encompassed with such á cloud of witnesses; but it is certain, that God, the infinite eternal God, is now and ever with me. The great Jehovah, before whom all the angelic armies bow their heads and veil their faces, surrounds me, supports me, pervades me. "In him "I live, move, and have my being."-The whole world is his august temple; and, in the most sequestered corner, I appear before his adorable majesty no less than when I worship in his house, or kneel at his altar. In every place, therefore, let me pay him the homage of a heart cleansed from idols and devoted to his service in every circumstance let me feel no ambition but to please him, nor covet any happiness but to enjoy him.

How sublime is the description, and how striking the sentiment, in that noble passage of the Psalms! Whither shall I go from thy spirit, or whither shall I flee from thy presence? If I climb up into the heights of Heaven, thou art there enthroned in light: if I go down to the depths of the grave, thou art there also in thy pavilion of darkness. If I retire to the remotest eastern climes, where the morning first takes wing: if, swifter than the darting ray, I pass to the opposite regions of the west, and remain in the uttermost parts of the sea; shall I, in that distant situation, be beyond thy reach; or, by this sudden transition, escape thy notice? So far from it, that could I, with one glance of thought, transport myself beyond all the bounds of creation, I should still be incircled with the immensity of thy essence, or, rather, still be inclosed in the hollow of thy hand.-Awful, yet delightful truth! Let it be interwoven with every thought, and be come one with the very consciousness of my ex

Psal. cxxxix. 7, 8, 9. There is, I think, an additional strength and beauty in the thought; if, with the learned Mr. Mudge, we suppose an antithesis between the two clauses of the last verse, as there evidently is between those of the preceding; and that they express, in a poetical style, the extremities of the east and the west.

istence! that I may continually walk with God, and conduct myself, in every step of my behaviour, "as seeing Him that is invisible."

They are the happy persons; felicity, true felicity, is all their own, who live under an habitual sense of God's omnipresence, and a sweet persuasion of his special love. If dangers threaten their impregnable defence is at hand. Nothing can be so near to terrify as their almighty Guar dian to secure them.-To these the hours can never be tedious, and it is impossible for them to be alone. Do they step aside from the occupations of animal life? A more exalted set of employments engage their attention. They address themselves, in all the various acts of devotion, to their heavenly Father, who now sees in secret, and will hereafter reward them openly. They spread all their wants before his indulgent eye, and disburden all their sorrows into his compassionate bosom.-Do they withdraw from human society? They find themselves under the more immediate regards of their Maker. If they resign the satisfactions of social intercourse it is to cultivate a correspondence with the condescending Deity, and taste the pleasures of divine friendship.-What is such a state but the very suburbs of Heaven? What is such a conduct but an antepast of eternal blessedness?

Now, my soul, the day is ended. The hours. are all fled. They are fled to the supreme Judge, and have given in their evidence; an evidence registered in Heaven, and to be produced at the great audit.-Happy they whose improvement has kept pace with the fleeting minutes; who have seized the important fugitives, and engaged them in the pursuit of wisdom, or devoted them to the service of virtue.

Fugitives indeed they are. Our moments slip away silently and insensibly. The thief steals not more unperceived from the pillaged houseAnd will the runagates never stop? No: wherever we

are, however employed, time pursues his incessant course. Though we are listless and dilatory, the great Measurer of our days presses on, still presses on in his unwearied career, and whirls our weeks, and months, and years, away. Is it not then surprisingly strange to hear people complain of the tediousness of their time, and how heavy it hangs upon their hands? To see them contrive a variety of amusing artifices, to accelerate its flight, and get rid of its burden?-Ah! thoughtless mortals! why need you urge the headlong torrent? Your days are swifter than a post, which, carrying dis patches of the last importance, with unremitted speed scours the road. They pass away like the nimble ships, which have the wind in their wings, and skim along the watery plain. They hasten to their destined period with the rapidity of an eagle, which leaves the stormy blast behind her while she cleaves the air and darts upon her prey t.

Now the day is gone how short it appears! When my fond eye beheld it in perspective it seemed a very considerable space. Minutes crowded upon minutes, and hours ranged behind hours, exhibited an extensive draught, and flattered me with a long progression of pleasures. But, upon a retrospective view, how wonderfully is the scene altered! The landscape, large and spacious, which a warm fancy drew, brought to the test of cool experience, shrinks into a span; just as the shores vanish and mountains dwindle to a spot, when the

Sed fugit interea, fugit irreparabile tempus. Virg.

+ Job ix. 25, 26. By these three very expressive images, the inspired poet represents the unintermitted and rapid flight of time. The passage is illustrated with great judgment, and equal delicacy, in Dr. Grey's most ingenious Abridgment of Schultens.Quæ tribus in elementis velocissima, hic admirabili cum emphasi congeruntur. In terris, nil pernicius cursore, & quidem laeti quid ferente. Rapidius tamen adhuc undas, non secant, sed supervolant, navigiola papyro contexta. Omnium rapidissime aerem grandibus alis permetitur aquila, præcipiù lapsu ruens in prædam,