To fuppofe that the lot of the righteous was on the whole worfe than that of the wicked in general here, would afford a prefumptive argument, that there is no moral governor of the world, and that a man's interest is on the fide of vice and irreligion:-as on this fuppofition we should want proof of God's moral perfections, we should not be able to prove a future ftate, or a future equal retribution of happiness and mifery, according to men's different conduct or real character. In this dark view of things, religion would have no folid foundation, and righteousness no all-fufficient friend. But matters are not thus circumstanced. From what has been faid it appears far otherwife. This is our rejoicing; and we congra. tulate the afflicted righteous, that they are in the right courfe, and that they have an all-fufficient friend in Heaven, who will fuccour, blefs and fave them for ever; for though many are the afflictions of the righteous, yet the Lord will deliver them out of them all. God is a fun and fhield, he will give grace and glory, and no good thing will he withhold from them that walk uprightly." 66 Let this give us full fatisfaction in the perfections and providence of God. Let us cherish an unreserved fubmiffion to his will, and firm reliance on his grace through the faith of our Lord Jefus Chrift: Let us take the Saviour of the world as the great pattern of patience and hope; trusting in God, that "what we know not now, we shall know hereafter-when we shall know, even as we are known" + The fermon on the state of human nature, merits the careful perufal of those who make wild commentaries on the fall of Adam, and who think that they glorify the divine nature, by degrading the human. If then on our furveying God's work in the lifeless particles of matter, in the vegetable or animal part of the creation, the more highly we think and fpeak of it, the more we do honor to him who formed it, will not this equally hold good on our fpeaking well of the rational part of his handywork? If magnifying other parts of the creation is exalting the Creator, how comes it to pafs, that laying the nature of man as low as poffible, that even vilifying this part of God's workmanship, which of all others in the visible fyftem is most diftinguished, fhould be thought to be for the glory of God? This, I own, is beyond my comprehenfion.-Certainly, the more vile we reprefent the nature of man on his formation, the lefs honour, or rather, I might fay, the more dishonour we afcribe to God: but, take notice, we now fpeak of our nature, as it immediately comes out of the hand of God, its Creator. Whatever we were, when born into the world, we were wholly the work of God; every property, whether of body or mind, was from him, who is the Former of our bodies and the Father of our spirits: the connection fubfifting between body and mind he constituted; and the mutual effect, which these distinct parts of our nature have upon Pfalm lxxxiv. 11. † John xiii. 7. Cor. xiii. 12. hinted, each other, is by his immediate operation or influence.Our parents are only the inftruments of conveying to us a bodily substance; this is all we have derived from our first parents through the channel of many generations; nor can this corporeal fubftance, as we have juft hinted, any ways affect the mind, that is united to it, but by the im. mediate 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 fenfe, every affection 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 muit 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 observe 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 species 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 see, 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 dishonour 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 exist. ence? 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 averfe from all good, and prone to all evil? Is this worthy of his infinite perfections? If formed in such a state, could we be fit for the above-mentioned purpose of our being? or should we be qualified by our Maker to become proper fubjects of his moral government?--And if not fo qualified, why doth he cominand 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 address us in his word, as if we were capable of doing these things? H 3 Thele Thefe important queftions 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 intitutions 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 Chilcet, of Bath (afterwards Mrs. Meziere) Authores of Elmar and Ethlinda, a Legendary Tale, &c. &c. 12mo. 2 vols. 6s. Bew, London. Baker, Southampton. THE 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 the 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 Stabbed young Stanley. Bellmour himself, after wandering for Tome time in a forlorn and distracted 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 the can reveal to a confidant. But it has been the practice of novel-writers, for fome time paft, to make their tales as gloomy and tremendous as poffible, and to mistake 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 verses interfperfed through this collection. One little ode we shall extract, for the entertainment of the reader. • Long, long like Noah's dove around That blifs of life was ftill unfound, Where thought all mutual ftill meets thought, And mind embraces mind, Tho' failing ftill the youth I fought, None fuch to me inclin'd. Perhaps in journ'ing from the fkies And ever fince in vain he tries To find his long, loft way. And are we doom'd, Oh! fate unkind! In this life those to meet, Who in foft blifs no more confin'd No joys can e'er repeat ? Oh! would the fav'ring ftar that led I'd rove Arabia's fun-burnt fands, O'er roaring waves or hoftile lands My feet should' fearless haste. Not worlds of wealth fhould me detain, The mines of rich Peru in vain Should tempt my fteps to ftray. 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 I'd wing my way to thine. H4 Perhaps The Banks of Tagus, mufing, treads, In this bless'd state, -with thee how pleas'd Tho' falling fnow around us freez'd With fouls above the least disguise At eve, dear youth, I'd smooth thy bed We'd weep or smile-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 foftnefs 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 course of laft year, the faculty of advocates at Edinburgh appointed a committee of their number, to prepare regulations refpecting the course of study 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 |