each other, is by his immediate operation or influence. Our parents are only the inftruments of conveying to us a bodily fubftance; this is all we have derived from our first parents through the channel of many generations; nor can this corporeal fubftance, as we have just hinted, any ways affect the mind, that is united to it, but by the immediate power of God. A child can derive nothing from his parents, whether remote or near, but by the good pleasure and power of his Creator. The mind is not conveyed from parent to child, but is immediately derived from God; every organ, every sense, every af. fection and every faculty of our nature is equally his production; fo that our whole nature, whatever it is, when newly formed, is intirely derived from the perfect wisdom, and goodness, as well as the power of God; and muft every moment be dependent on the great first cause of its existence. Let us obferve, Secondly, that the work of God must be worthy of its author, and well fuited to the purpose of its creation. Do you not obferve in the animal creation, that every species is fuited to the purpose of its being? That the several senses are adapted to their objects that the form, as well as faculties, of every fpecies, is well fitted to the place for which this fpecies is intended? Are not feet given to the animal that is to walk? wings to the fowl that is to fly? a webbed foot to the fowl that is to fwim on the waters, and only fins to the fish that is to move in that element? As far as we fee, God has made nothing in vain, nor made one thing unfit for the purpofe of it. This is perfectly applicable to the nature of man. Can any thing that is really bad come out of his hand? As fimple as this queftion may feem, it is of great moment to the point in view. Can any thing be created by him, that would be a reproach to his perfect understanding? any thing, that would be a difhonour to his infinite goodness and purity? Is not every creature of God really good in its place, and worthy of him that made it? Or can a wife and benevolent and holy God create a being not fit for the purpose of its existence? Is not the purpose of a reasonable creature, or the end of his being, that he may act a reasonable and worthy part? that he may be a good fubject of God's moral government? that he may difcern, approve and do what is right? And can we fuppofe, that God has made us, though under his appointed means of inftruction, incapable of difcerning between moral good and evil? incapable of approving what is good? or of choofing and acting according to inward appro bation? Has he made us neceffarily blind? has he formed our nature averse from all good, and prone to all evil? Is this worthy of his infinite perfections? If formed in fuch a ftate, could we be fit for the above-mentioned purpose of our being? or fhould we be qualified by our Maker to become proper fubjects of his moral government? — And if not fo qualified, why doth he command us to do his will? Why urge us to obedience by the motives of promifes and threatenings contained in his revealed word? or what foundation can there be for a future judgment of all mankind, or the application of rewards and punishments? If God, the author of our nature, has made us incapable of fairly confidering and duly regarding motives, why doth he addrefs us in his word, as if we were capable of doing these things? H 3 Thale Thefe important questions ought to be carefully weighed, and answer. ed with equal faithfulness.' Upon the whole, thefe fermons are the compofition of a ferious and enlightened mind. Religion is confirmed by found reason, and faith happily connected with morals. An air of fimplicity, fincerity, and probity, accompanies the preacher, enforces what he fays, and brings it home to the heart. The gofpel of Chrift is not confounded with the doctrines and inftitutions of men; nor the dignity of a moral teacher loft in the airs and graces of a modern rhetorician. Such plain, ferious, rational, and perfuafive fermons, are peculiarly proper for the family and the closet. ART. XI. Moreton Abbey; or the Fatal Mystery. A Novel, by the late Mifs Harriot Chilcot, of Bath, (afterwards Mrs. Meziere) Authores of Elmar and Etblinda, a Legendary Tale, &c. &c. 12mo. 2 vols. 6s. Bew, London. Baker, Southampton, T HE incidents in this novel are few in number, but they are interefting, and have the merit of novelty. Colonel Bellmour, after along abfence, and from the perils of war, returns to Moreton Abbey, and marries Mifs Moreton, to whom he had been attached. The new married couple (according to common form) communicate to their correfponding friends, the joys and beatitudes of the honey-moon. But as human happiness is of no long duration, either in novels or in real life, the lover's dream" is foon interrupted. Mr. Stanley, a friendlefs orphan, protected by Mrs. Bellmour, in whofe houfe he refides, appears to the husband to be too great a favourite, and excites his jealoufy. Mrs. Bellmour, afflicted with the fufpicions of her husband, and her own fituation, reveals the hiftory of this young unknown, to her correfpondent Mifs Colville, and informs her, that Stanley was the fon of her fifter, who had been unfortunately married to a gentleman, who had another wife alive. Upon the difcovery of this former marriage, her fifter grew diftracted, and funk into a confumption, of which fhe died; charging Mrs. Bellmour, on her death bed, not to reveal the fecret of her fon's birth. Colonel Bellmour, who was unacquainted with this mysterious hiftory, found his fufpicions increafe, and in a fit of jealoufy ftabbed young Stanley. Bellmour himself, after wandering for fome time in a forlorn and diftracted ftate, expires; and Mrs. Bellmour dies of a broken heart. It will immediately appear to the reader, that all this distress might have been prevented, by Mrs. Bellmour's communicating to her husband the fecret of young Stanley's birth, which the had had intrufted to her friend. Indeed we know of no fecrets that a woman of virtue has any occafion to conceal from a hufband, which, fhe can reveal to a confidant. But it has been the practice of novel-writers, for fome time past, to make their tales as gloomy and tremendous as poffible, and to miftake the shocking and the horrible, for the affecting and the pathetic. Such descriptions are an unfaithful picture of life, and their tendency is unfavourable to virtue. they throw a gloom over the mind, and lead to a diftruft in providence. There are fome verfes interfperfed through this collection. One little ode we shall extract, for the entertainment of the reader. Long, long like Noah's dove around My reftlefs heart has ftray'd; That blifs of life was ftill unfound, Where thought all mutual ftill meets thought, And mind embraces mind, None fuch to me inclin'd. Perhaps in journ'ing from the skies He chanc'd afide to stray, And ever fince in vain he tries To find his long, loft way. And are we doom'd, Oh! fate unkind! In this life thofe to meet, Who in foft blifs no more confin'd No joys can e'er repeat? Oh! would the fav'ring ftar that led To the high, heav'n-born infant's bed, I'd rove Arabia's fun-burnt fands, My feet should fearless hafte. Not worlds of wealth fhould me detain, The mines of rich Peru in vain Should tempt my steps to stray. Then, tell me where,-fome angel tell Where dwells the form unknown; Direct me to fome hermit's cell Who does the world difown. Then, oh dear form, whofe fettled mind Beats fympathy to mine; To place or clime where'er confin'd H4 Perhaps Perhaps the ftar that gilds the morn Perhaps on Perfia's throne-Oh! no Quick ftop fuch rapid flight; Perhaps on Alpine hills he leads The Banks of Tagus, mufing, treads, With fouls above the leaft disguise At eve, dear youth, I'd fmooth thy bed We'd weep or fmile-untaught by art- But if on earth we ne'er must meet, In joys, which fate can ne'er defeat, Our fouls fhall join in heav'n!' There are common thoughts, as well as careless lines in this poem, but an air of softness and tenderness breathes through the whole. Si fic omnia dexiffet! ART. XII. Memorial relative to Subjects in which the Dignity and Intereft of the Society of Clerks to his Majesty's Signet are deeply concerned. 4to. Edinburgh. IN N the courfe of last year, the faculty of advocates at Edin burgh appointed a committee of their number, to prepare regulations refpecting the courfe of ftudy neceffary to be followed, and the other qualifications which ought to be required in those who wish to become members of the faculty. In obedience to this appointment, the committee fuggefted the fol lowing lowing regulations. I. That no perfon fhould be a imi member of the faculty of advocates, who had not attende? university for seven years. II. That no perfon fhould be admitted to trials after twenty-feven years of age, from the Janger of his having contracted improper habits of life in other profeffions. III. That a committee of feven fhall be appointed, without whofe authority no person shall be admitted to trials. These regulations received the approbation of the faculty, and were prefented to the court of feffion to receive their sanction; but the judges, with a becoming attention to the dignity of the court, and the rights of the subject, delayed the confideration of them till next session. There is fomething very extraordinary in this mode of proceeding. The reputation of the faculty of advocates, for learning, abilities, and polished manners, was never higher than at prefent. They boast, and with juftice, in their report, that in former periods, as well as at prefent, they have been diftinguished by members, not only eminent for their knowledge in law, but whofe general literature and knowledge did honour both to their own profeffion, and the times in which they lived. And yet, at this very moment, when their character ftands the higheft, they wish to alter the mode of admittance, and fhut that very door by which they themselves entered to their preferment and honours! The new reftrictions propofed by the committee, and adopted by the faculty, feem chiefly intended. to prevent the writers, or clerks to the fignet, becoming members of the faculty of advocates. Yet, according to the prefent law, the bench of judges may be fupplied from the clerks to the fignet. The 19th article of the treaty of union provides, "That hereafter none fhall be named to be ordinary lords of feffion, but fuch who have ferved in the college of juftices as advocates or principal clerks of feffion for the fpace of five years, or as writers to the fignet for the space of ten years; with this provifion, that no writer to the fignet be capable to be admitted a lord of teffion, unless he undergo a private and public trial on the civil law, before the faculty of advocates, and be found by them qualified for the faid office, two years before he be named to be a lord of the feilion; yet fo as the qualifications made, or to be made, for capacitating perfons to be named or. dinary lords of feffion, may be altered by the parliament of GreatBritain." Independent of the application of thefe new regulations for admiffion into the faculty of advocates, to an order of men from which the bench of judges may be fupplied, from a confideration of the general point thefe reftrictions are unconftitutional and abfurd. By the law and conftitution of this country, every subject of the kingdom may betake himfelf to any |