and, together with the weeping friends, Jesus wept.*

Let us next proceed to consider the effect of this virtuous sensibility on our character and our state. I shall consider it in two views; its influence on our moral conduct, and its influence on our happiness.

First, It powerfully influences the proper discharge of all the relative and social duties of life. Without some discharge of those duties, there could be no comfort or security in human society. Men would become hordes of savages, perpetually harassing one another. In one way or other, therefore, the great duties of social life must be performed. There must be among mankind some reciprocal cooperation and aid. In this, all consent. But let us observe, that these duties may be performed from different principles, and in different ways. Sometimes they are performed merely from decency, and regard to character; sometimes from fear, and even from selfishness, which obliges men to shew kindness, in order that they may receive returns of it. In such cases, the exterior of fair behaviour

* John xi. 35,

may be preserved. But all will admit, that when from constraint only, the offices of seeming kindness are performed, little dependence can be placed on them, and little value allowed to them.

Such men act

By others, these offices are discharged solely from a principle of duty. They are men of cold affections, and perhaps of an interested character. But, overawed by a sense of religion, and convinced that they are bound to be beneficent, they fulfil the course of rela tive duties with regular tenor. from conscience and principle. So far they do well, and are worthy of praise. They assist their friends; they give to the poor; they do justice to all. But what a different complexion is given to the same actions-how much higher flavour do they acquire, when they flow from the sensibility of a feeling heart? If one be not moved by affection, even supposing him influenced by principle, he will go no further than strict principle appears to require. He will advance slowly and reluctantly. As it is justice, not generosity, which impels him, he will often feel as a task what he is required by conscience to perform. Whereas to him, who is prompted by virtuous sensibility, every office of beneficence and humanity is a pleasure. He gives, assists, and

relieves, not merely because he is bound to do So, but because it would be painful for him to refrain. Hence the smallest benefit he confers rises in its value, on account of its carrying the affection of the giver impressed upon the gift. It speaks his heart, and the discovery of the heart is very frequently of greater consequence than all that liberality can bestow. How often will the affectionate smile of approbation gladden the humble, and raise the dejected? How often will the look of tender sympathy, or the tear that involuntarily falls, impart consolation to the unhappy? By means of this correspondence of hearts, all the great duties which we owe to one another are both performed to more advantage, and endeared in the performance. From true sensibility, flow a thousand good offices, apparently small in themselves, but of high importance to the felicity of others; offices which altogether escape the observation of the cold and unfeeling, who, by the hardness of their manner, render themselves unamiable, even when they mean to do good. How happy, then, would it be for mankind, if this affectionate disposition prevailed more generally in the world! How much would the sum of public virtue, and public felicity be increased, if

men were always inclined to rejoice with them that rejoice, and to weep with them that weep.

But, besides the effect of such a temper on general virtue and happiness, let us consider its effect on the happiness of him who possesses it, and the various pleasures to which it gives him access, If he be master of riches or influence, it affords him the means of increasing his own enjoyment, by relieving the wants, or increasing the comforts of others. If he command not these advantages, yet all the comforts which he sees in the possession of the deserving, become in some sort his, by rejoicing in the good which they enjoy. Even the face of nature yields a satisfaction to him, which the insensible can never know. profusion of goodness which he beholds poured forth on the universe, dilates his heart with the thought that innumerable multitudes around him are blest and happy. When he sees the labours of men appearing to prosper, and views a country flourishing in wealth and industry; when he beholds the spring coming forth in its beauty, and reviving the decayed face of nature; or in autumn beholds the fields loaded with plenty, and the year crowned with all its fruits, he lifts his affections with grati

The

tude to the great Father of all, and rejoices in the general felicity and joy.

It may indeed be objected, that the same sensibility lays open the heart to be pierced with many wounds from the distresses which abound in the world; exposes us to frequent suffering from the participation which it communicates, of the sorrows, as well as of the joys of friendship. But let it be considered, that the tender melancholy of sympathy is accompanied with a sensation, which they who feel it would not exchange for the gratifications of the selfish. When the heart is strongly moved by any of the kind affections, even when it pours itself forth in virtuous sorrow, a secret attractive charm mingles with the painful emotion; there is a joy in the midst of grief. Let it be farther considered, that the griefs which sensibility introduces are counterbalanced by pleasures which flow from the same source, Sensibility heightens in general the human powers, and is connected with acuteness in all our feelings. If it makes us more alive to some painful sensations, in return, it renders the pleasing ones more vivid and animated. The selfish man languishes in his narrow circle of pleasures. They are confined to what affects his own interest. He is obliged to repeat the same gra