derive comforts from a purer source; comforts that are independent of others, and that accompany us in solitude and silence, in the season of calamity, and at the hour of death. To acquire discipline over the mind, with which so many blessings are connected, nothing can be more effectual than frequent intercourse with the aged.

Many young persons, I know, are ready to allege their gravity and moroseness, their indifference to amusements, or their condemnation of pleasure, as bars to this desirable society. But consider; it is not an accession of spirits and vivacity that you want; your foolish confidence and blind credulity need not be increased; and surely the ardour of your passions and desires is already sufficiently dangerous. These require not to be inflamed, but controlled; and we wish you to frequent the company of the aged for what you chiefly want, and they are particularly qualified to bestow ;-habits of thought and reflection, sobriety of sentiment, the warnings of experience, and the great duty of guarding against the temptation of the world.

But you must not expect at once the beauties of the spring and the fruits of autumn; you must not be disappointed, if you do not find the wisdom of age enlivened by the gay hopes and boundless confidence of youth; nor must you regret that the exercise of the more amiable virtue is unattended with the raptures of passion, or the endearments of sensibility. That would be as preposterous as to look for roses in December, or to expect that the setting sun should shine with the fervid splendour of noon.

Besides the gradual abatement of appetite and passion, the apathy which satiety or frequent repetition produces, and not to mention the many infirmities of the aged, there are other causes to render them, what we might call, morose, suspicious, and severe. They have seen and are assured of the folly and the danger which attend the pleasures of the world; they have often grieved, and, perhaps, suffered for the baseness and depravity of men; they have often chased the phantoms of hope, till they have vanished into air, and when other illusions supplied their place, they have grasped at happiness, perhaps, but embraced misery. Can you wonder then that prudence should sometimes teach them to apprehend evil, where you see nothing but good? And that their expectations should be moderate, their wishes sober, and their passions subdued?

HEWLETT.

THE MERE PROFESSION OF CHRISTIANITY NOT SUFFICIENT.

THE mere profession of the Gospel, which consists in outward conformity, in the indefinite assent of the understanding, will but aggravate their guilt. Christianity is a practical principle displaying itself in love and obedience to God, in active exertion for the service of man, in constant efforts after inward piety, and personal and progressive holiness. Any thing short of this is not the religion which Christ came from heaven to teach, nor will it carry us safely thither.

Oh! let those to whom life is just opening, whose hearts are full of hope, and vigour, and gaiety, pause and consider their ways, and ponder the path of their feet. They are not yet in They know nothing

the trammels of the world.

and an

of the tyranny of custom, nothing of the slavery of habit. Their race is still to be run, immortal crown may be their portion.

Let them examine with earnestness the evidences of their religion, that they may be ready to give a reason for the hope that is in them; imploring with humble fervour assistance from the fountain of all truth, and light, and knowledge they will then receive with meekness the engrafted word which is able to save their souls ; they will hold fast the profession of their faith without wavering. But let it not be a simple adoption, a mere profession of Christianity, but an active principle, an animating spirit, diffusing itself through every thought, word, and action.

ANONYMOUS.

THE INVISIBILITY OF GOD NO ARGU. MENT AGAINST HIS EXISTENCE.

Now one thing which diminishes greatly man's conviction of the being and power of God, especially with persons who do not bestow much thought upon the subject, is, that they do not see him: "No man hath seen God at any time;" and the want of this, of actually perceiving him with our senses, has a very considerable effect upon the persuasion of all who are not accus

tomed to reflection. The evidence of our senses, or the testimony of other men's, is the strong and natural proof of the reality and existence of most things, and with many, the only proof they will attend to. To believe any thing to exist and act which yet cannot be seen or felt, and which no man hath seen or felt, requires a reach of thought which many, from want of habits of seriousness and meditation, do not attain to. We see and hear one another, and therefore doubt not of one another's existence. We do not see God and hear him, and therefore it is to reason and argument we must appeal to be satisfied of his exist, ence. There are, I am confident, reasons and arguments, so strong and plain, that no man can well withstand them, or not have his judgment convinced by them; yet still the fact of never seeing this great being, or perceiving him with our senses, brings upon the subject a kind of suspense and hesitation. The most natural way of delivering our thoughts from any doubts on this account is, that there are many other things besides the Deity, of the existence and reality of which we have no doubt, nor can have any doubt, which nevertheless we do not see, nor can see, nor ever were seen. A stone drops to the ground: something must draw it thither-something must influence and act upon it, to cause it to fall down rather than fly upwards-to urge it constantly to seek and press towards the lowest place rather than to any other part, or in any other direction; yet no eye can see what it is that thus acts upon the stone. Shall we therefore say that nothing acts upon it? That this constant and powerful effect has no cause to produce it, because we

perceive none with our senses? This is one plain instance. There is something of vast efficacy and activity, which is spread and diffused through every part of space that we are acquainted with. Go where we will, we meet with it-in ourselves -in every thing about us. Whatever has weight (and all bodies have it more or less) feels and suffers the influence of this universal agent; yet nothing is to be seen all the while-no visible stream or fluid driving or carrying all bodies to the centre-no discernible pull or hold which drags them to it. Another similar example may be taken from the loadstone. It draws a needle towards it. Something or other must pass between it and the needle to produce this effect, yet nothing is seen. This property in the loadstone necessarily depends upon some body communicating between it and the needle, yet no communication is in the smallest degree perceptible. We cannot deny the existence of this communicating substance, because we see effects which cannot be accounted for without it; yet it is a substance as impossible to be found out by sight or touch as the essence of the Deity. The same needle which is touched with the loadstone immediately turns to the north and south-if it has liberty to move, it will rest in no other position. Now it must have received something from the loadstone to give it this new and strange property-but what? Nothing that we can discover by our senses. Examine the needle as you will, you will find nothing in it different from what it had before-no change, no addition is to be perceived-yet a great change is wrought-a great addition is made to the former properties of the