are savages in human shape, who, muffled in shades, infest the abodes of civilized life. The sons of violence make choice of this season to perpetrate the most outrageous acts of wrong and robbery. The adulterer waiteth for the twilight, and, baser than the villain on the highway, betrays the honour of his bosom friend. Now faction forms her close cabals, and whispers her traitorous insinuations. Now rebellion plans her accursed plots, and prepares the train to blow a nation into ruin. Now crimes, which hide their odious heads in the day, haunt the seats of society, and stalk through the gloom with audacious front. Now the vermin of the stews crawl from their lurking holes to wallow in sin, and spread contagion through the night; each soothing himself with the fond notion, that all is safe, that no eye sees."

Are they then concealed? Preposterous madmen! to draw the curtain between their infamous practices and a little set of mortals, but lay them open to all these chaste and wakeful eyes of Heavent! As though the moon and stars were made to light men to their revels, and not to God.

Are they then concealed? No, truly. Was every one of these vigilant luminaries closed, an eye keener than the lightning's flash, an eye brighter than ten thousand suns, beholds their every motion. Their thickest shades are beaming day to the jealous inspector and supreme Judge of human actions.-Deluded creatures! have ye not heard, have ye not read, "that clouds and

--When night

Darkens the streets, then wander forth the sons
Of Belial, flown with insolence and wine.

-Sed luna videt, sed sidera testes

Intendunt oculos.

Milt.

This is finely, and very forcibly, expressed by the Psalmist: If I say, Peradventure the darkness shall cover me; then shall my night be turned to day. Or, as it may be rendered somewhat more emphatically, Even the night shall be broad daylight all around me. Peal, cxxxix, 10,

darkness are His majestic residence?" In that very gloom, to which you fly for covert, he erects his throne. What you reckon your screen is the bar of his tribunal. O! remember this! Stand in awe and sin not. Remember that the great and terrible God is about your path t when you take your midnight range, is about your bed when you indulge the loose desire; and spies out all your ways, be they ever so secretly conducted or artfully disguised.

Some minutes ago a passenger crossed along the road. His horse's foot struck the ground, and fetched fire from a flint. My eye, though at a distance, catched the view, and saw, with great clearness, the transient sparkles; of which, had I been ever so near, I should not have discerned the least glimpse under the blaze of day. Sot, when sickness has drawn a veil over the gaiety of our hearts, when misfortunes have eclipsed the splendor of our outward circumstances, how many important convictions present themselves with the brightest evidence! Under the sunshine of pros perity they lay undiscovered; but when some

Psal. xcvii. 2.

+ The original words are much stronger than the translation. 7 and 3D signify, Thou siftest my path, and art intimately acquainted with all my ways. The former, I apprehend, denoting the exact cognizance which the Almighty taketh, the latter implying the constant inspection which he exerciseth, over all the circumstances of our conduct. Psal. cxxxix, 2.

I beg leave to inform the young gentleman, whose name dignifies my dedication, that this was a remark of his honoured father, when we rode together, and conversed in a dusky evening. I mention this circumstance, partly to secure the paragraph from contempt; partly to give him and the world an idea of that eminently serious taste, which distinguished my deceased friend. The less obvious the reflection, the more clearly it discovers a turu of mind remarkably spiritual; which would suffer nothing to escape, without yielding some religious improvement. The meauer the incident, the more admirable was the fertility of imagination, which could deduce the sublimest truths from the most trivial occurrences.

intervening cloud has darkened the scene, they emerge from their obscurity, and even glitter upon our minds. Then the world, that delusive cheat, confesses her emptiness; but Jesus, the bright and morning star, beams forth with inimitable lustre. Then, vice loses all her fallacious allurements; that painted strumpet is horrible as the hags of hell: but virtue, despised virtue, gains loveliness from a lowering providence, and treads the shades with more than mortal charms.-May this reconcile me, and all the sons of sorrow, to our ap pointed share of sufferings! If tribulation tend to dissipate the inward darkness, and pour hea venly day upon our minds, welcome distress, welcome disappointment, welcome whatever our froward flesh or peevish passions would miscall calamities. These light afflictions, which are but for a moment, shall sit easy upon our spirits, since they befriend our knowledge, promote our faith, and so "work out for us a far more exceeding and eternal "weight of glory*."

How has this darkness snatched every splendid and graceful object from my sight. It has dashed the sponge over the pictures of spring, and destroyed all the delicate distinctions of things. Where are now the fine tinges which so lately charmed me from the glowing parterre? The blush is struck out from the cheeks of the rose,

2 Cor. iv. 17. The great Stephens, that oracle of Grecian learning, translates xas' weesoλny, Quo nihil majus dici aut fingi potest. But how does the sense rise! How is the idea enlarged, under two such forcible expressions ! καθ' υπερβολήν εις υπερβολην.-The whole verse is a masterpiece of the beautiful antithesis, the lively description, and the nervous diction. It is one of those exquisité passages in the inspired writings, which, like some rich aromatic plants, cannot be transferred from their own generous and native soil, without being impaired in their vivacity, and losing much of their delicacy. Perhaps the following version may be somewhat less injurious to the sacred original, than the common translation;-Our very light affiction, which is but just for the present moment, worketh out a far more exceeding, and incomparably great, and eternal weight of glory.

and the snowy hue is dropt from the lily. I cast my eyes toward a magnificent seat, but the aspiring columns and fair expanded front are mingled in rude confusion. Without the sun all the elegance of the blooming world is a mere blank; all the symmetry of architecture is a shapeless heap.

Is not this an expressive emblem of the loveliness which the sun of righteousness transfuses into all that is amiable? Was it not for Jesus and his merits, I should sigh with anguish of spirit, even while I rove through ranks of the most beautiful flowers, or breathe amidst a wilderness of sweets. Was it not for Jesus and his merits, I should roam like some disconsolate spectre, even through the smiles of creation and the caresses of fortune. My conversation in this world, though dressed in the most engaging forms of external pleasure, would be like the passage of a condemned malefactor, through enamelled meadows and bowers of bliss, to be broke upon the wheel, or to expire on the rack. But a daily reflection on the Lamb's atoning blood, a comfortable trust, that my soul is reconciled through this divine expiation; this is the ray, the golden ray, which irradiates the face of the universe. This is the oil of beauty, which makes all things wear a cheerful aspect, and the oil of gladness, which disposes the spectator to behold them with delight. This, this is the se

Thus applied, that fine piece of flattery, addressed to the heathen emperor, is strictly and literally true.

Which I would cast into a Christian mould, and thus

translate:

When faith presents the Saviour's death,
And whispers, "This is thine;"

Sweetly my rising hours advance,

And peacefully decline.

While such my views, the radiant sun
Sheds a more sprightly ray;

Each object smiles; all naturé charms:
I sing my cares away.

eret charm which teacheth nature in all her pros pects and all her productions so exquisitely to please.

"Man goeth forth to his work and to his labour "till the evening:" But then his strength fails, his spirits flag, and he stands in need, not only of some respite from toil, but of some kindly and sovereign refreshments.-What an admirable provision for this purpose is sleep! Sleep introduces a most welcome vacation both for the soul and body. The exercises of the brain and the labours. of the hand are at once discontinued: so that the weary limbs repair their exhausted vigour, while the pensive thoughts drop their load of sorrows, and the busy ones rest from the fatigue of application. Most reviving cordial! equally beneficial to our animal and intellectual powers. It supplies the fleshly machine, and keeps all its nice movements in a proper posture for easy play. It animates the thinking faculties with fresh alacrity, and rekindles their ardour for the studies of the dawn. Without these enlivening recruits how soon would the most robust constitution be wasted into a walking skeleton, and the most learned sage de generate into a hoary idiot!-Some time ago, I beheld, with surprise, poor Florio: his air was wild, his countenance meagre, his thoughts roving, and speech disconcerted. Inquiring the cause of this strange alteration, I was informed that for several nights he had not closed his eyes in sleep; for want of which noble restorative, that sprightly youth (who was once the life of the discourse, and the darling of the company) is become a spectacle of misery and horror.

How many of my fellow-creatures are, at this very instant, confined to the bed of languishing; and complaining, with that illustrious sufferer of old, Wearisome nights are appointed to me! In

# Job. vii. S.