of pleasing, does not assume to effect his object. Such oblique evidences in favor of Christianity, are not without force, and show that the disposition which it labors to inculcate, is precisely that which would render human happiness the greatest, by rendering society the most delightful; much more delightful than it ever can be, when we varnish over heart-burnings, jealousies, envyings, and seditions with Christian faces and more than Christian language.

There must exist in society, distinction of rank, as well as difference of natural endowments, and attainments the effect of study; but God ordained this inequality for wiser purposes than to minister to the pride of one being, and to wound the spirit of another; the mere knowledge of our superiority is not criminal, and indeed is frequently inevitable. It is the internal pride and contemptuous treatment of others, founded on such consciousness of superiority, which violate a law of the gospel most frequently repeated, and most clearly explained. After all, take some quiet, sober moment of life, and add together the two ideas of pride and of man; behold him, a creature of a span high, stalking through infinite space, in all the grandeur of littleness; perched on a little speck of the universe, every wind of heaven strikes into his blood the coldness of death; his soul fleets from his body like melody from the string; day and night, as dust on the wheel, he is rolled along the heavens, through a labyrinth of worlds, and all the systems and creations of God, are flaming above and beneath. Is this a creature to revel in his greatness? Is this a creature to make to himself a crown of glory; to deny his own flesh and blood; and to mock at his fellow, sprung from that dust to which they both will soon return? Does not the proud man err? Does he not suffer? Does he not die? When he reasons, is he never stopped by difficulties? When

he acts, is he never tempted by pleasures? When he lives, is he free from pain? When he dies, can he escape from the common grave? Pride is not the heritage of man; humility should dwell with frailty, and atone for ignorance, error, and imperfection.

It is not merely with gross acts of vice, or with splendid virtues, that Christianity is conversant; this is not the true genius and nature of our religion; it descends even to that turn of mind and sentiment, which fashions the deportment of man to man; it not only guards society from daring enormities, but would render our lives more happy, by endearing

cares and engaging attentions; it teaches man to be gentle and kind to his fellow, to forbear with him, to forgive foibles, to forget injuries, to cheer the lowly with glad words and kind looks. This civil and gracious spirit, is perhaps the truest test of our progress in Christianity; every one is subject to occasional fits of generosity, but a humane consideration, a rational indulgence for others, evinced by a constant sweetness of manner, is, perhaps, the most indisputable proof, that Christianity has sunk deeply and intimately into the heart. Do not let this seem a frivolous and inadequate object for a divine lawgiver; it owes its importance to the moral constitution of man.

The causes of great happiness and misery rarely occur; little circumstances and events that appear trifling, singly considered, make up the sum of human enjoyment or misery. The retrospect of our past lives will show us, that the greatest misfortune we have suffered, is the sum total of useless vexation inflicted on ourselves and others, from the want of this Christian restraint upon temper, and Christian excitement to benevolence. Men are more pained by affront than by injury; affront implies the absence of esteem, and the presence of contempt; and to gain the one and avoid the other, seems to be almost the ruling passion of our lives. For, wherefore, are the greater part of mankind studious of riches, but from the consequence they reflect on their possessor? Of what good are hidden beauty, or concealed talent, or secret splendor of descent? All these we covet, as they enable us to move with greater dignity in the world. What is the sting of poverty? not the privation of luxuries, but ridicule and contempt, which men daily die to avoid, because they fear them worse than death. Esteem is the great stake for which we all play; and to show a human being, not rendered infamous by crime, that you despise him, is a cruelty which savors little of that gentle religion we profess, or that merciful Redeemer we adore.

The worldly motives to cultivate the fruits of the spiritthough subordinate of course to those of religion,— are numerous and strong. The resentment which proceeds from contempt, is as much to be feared as the affection excited by courteous conduct, treatment is to be desired and cherished. It is wretched policy to stimulate any human being to a keen inspection of our follies and our faults, for no character can bear the microscopic scrutiny of vindictive anger. Contempt

never passes unobserved, is seldom forgiven, and always returned with a rapid accumulation of interest. Every body makes league against insolence; the misfortunes of any insolent man, are a public rejoicing; his vices are exaggerated, his motives falsified, and his virtues forgotten; he must humble himself in dust and ashes, before the world can, or will forgive him; whereas, that security which arises from a consciousness of being generally beloved, is the great soother of life and the most delightful sensation that any human being can enjoy. He who affects to despise the verdict which the great tribunal of the world passes on his life and fame, says that which is not true, or that which is shameful, if it be true; the delicacy of our feelings, with regard to public opinion is extreme. To hear that we have been the subject of conversation in our absence, creates a sensation of anxious alarm; we glance instantly at the weak parts of our character, at the offence, or the benevolence we have previously awakened in our judges; and our hearts die within us, if we learn that we have been the object of general condemnation; but to reflect that we are beloved as widely as we are known, to think that there are many absent human beings who bear to us the seeds of good will, kindness and esteem, is a sentiment which cheers the sadness of life; we shall live so as never to lose it; it breathes a grateful tranquillity on the soul; it is a firm barrier against the waves of chance, a lasting, solid happiness which we bear about us, like strength and health, earned by temperance and toil.

ON VANITY.

THOSE Vices are not always the most dangerous, which are the most rapid of operation, but as effects strike the senses most, where they follow immediately from their causes, such vices have been more accurately observed, and more clearly explained, than any others. In the mean time there are many habits of thought little noticed, and little feared, which pollute, no less effectually the springs of the heart, and corrupt the purity of religion. We shudder at falsehood, at ingratitude, at neglect of serious duties, at hardness of heart; we look at vanity with a smile of contempt, at the vanity of the young and gay, with a smile of indulgence; it seems to our improvident view an harmless plant, that has got up in the luxuriant soil of youth and will quickly wither away in

more mature age; in the mean time up it climbs, and strangles in its grasp the towering, and lordly passions of the soul.

I mean by vanity, the excessive love of praise and I call it excessive whenever it becomes a motive to action; for to make men indifferent to the praise of their fellow creatures, as a consequence of their actions, is not, that I know of, any where enjoined by our sacred religion, nor would it be wise, if it were possible. The vanity of great men, when it stimulates them to exertions useful to mankind, is that species of vanity, which seems to approach the nearest to virtue, and which we most readily pardon for its effects; and indeed so much are we inclined to view actions by their splendor, or their importance, rather than by their motives, that we can hardly agree to call by the name of vain, a man who has exercised consummate, and successful ability upon great objects; whereas, there is a vanity of great, and a vanity of little minds, and the same passion regulates a ceremony, which saves, or ruins a kingdom. It is better to be sure that good-if it cannot be done from the best-should be done from any motive, rather than not be done at all; but the dignity of the act can never communicate purity to the intention. True religion consists not only in action, but in the mind with which we act; and the highest beneficence, which flows from vanity, though it may exalt us in the eyes of men, abases us in the view of God.

It is curious to observe this versatile passion of vanity in all the forms under which it loves to exist; every shape, every color, every attitude becomes it alike; sometimes it is a virtue, sometimes a decency, and sometimes a vice; it gives birth to the man of refined manners, the profligate, the saint, and the hero; it plays with the toy of the child; it totters on the crutch of age; it lingers on the bed of sickness, and gathers up its last strength to die with decent effect amidst the plaudits of the world. The fall of great cities, the waste of beautiful provinces, the captivity of nations, the groans and bleedings of the earth, whence have they sprung? that folly might worship, that fame might record, that the world might look on, and wonder; for these feelings have embittered life, accelerated death, and abjured eternity. One of the great evils of vanity is, that it induces hardness of heart. Compassion must have exercise, or it will cease to exist; the mind cannot be engrossed at once by two opposite systems of hopes, and fears; if we are occupied by the con

sideration of what the world will think on every occasion, there is no leisure for reflection on those solemn duties which we owe to our fellow creatures; duties which God has not trusted to reason only, but towards which he has warned us by compassion and inward feeling. These feelings soon cease to admonish, when they are unheeded, and the voice of humanity when it has often spoken in vain, speaks no more. Soon the cry of him who wants bread will come up no longer to the ear, soon you will turn from the sad aspect of age, and your heart will become shut to the miseries of man, never again to be opened.

The havoc which vanity makes on the social feelings, is as conspicuous as that which it exercises on those of compassion; one of the most painful symptoms it produces is an impatience of home. The vain man has no new triumphs to make over his family, or his kindred; their society becomes tedious, and insupportable to him; he flies to every public circle for relief, where the hope of being admired, lightens up in him, that gaiety which never beams on those who ought to be nearest to his heart. Thus it is, that the lives of many in great cities are passed in crowds, and frittered away in a constant recurrence of the same frivolous amusements; after the poignant gratifications of vanity, every other species of sensation becomes insipid; the mind shrinks from duty, and from improvement, and the whole character becomes trifling and degraded. It is easy to misrepresent these observations, by supposing them to be levelled againt pleasure, and amusement in general; whereas, it is not only lawful to enjoy the innocent pleasures of society in moderation; but it is unwise not to enjoy them. That pleasure only is to be censured, which becomes a business and corrupts the heart instead of exhilirating the spirits. Dignity of character is a very subtle thing, and, as the guardian of many virtues should be carefully preserved; but if there is any fault which extinguishes amiable and pious sentiment, hardens the heart, destroys delicacy of manners, and wipes off all bloom, and freshness from the mind, it is constant and eternal dissipation. The very essence of pleasure is rarity; admiration too eagerly pursued, leads infallibly to contempt; and the qualities which produce the greatest effect, are always those of which the possessor is profoundly ignorant.

Vanity is not only a dangerous passion but it is an absurd passion; as it does not in general attain the end it proposes