I should not have explained myself sufficiently, permit me to give an example. A child of seven years old, instructed in the manner I recommend, was anxious to learn something of Solomon, whose wisdom she had often heard extolled. That part of his history was pointed out to her, which records his choice of wisdom in preference to riches or honours; she read the passage with great delight, and so deep was the impression it made upon her mind, that for a long time afterwards she never said her prayers, without petitioning God to give her wisdom to profit by the instructions she received, so that she might apply her heart to knowledge. How much the association of ideas thus excited might accelerate her progress in learning, it is impossible to pronounce; but I confess I think it probable, that her confidence in the Divine Wisdom and Goodness would be more firmly established by this impression than by repeating the whole Psalter by rote.

As the understanding opens to the perception of moral truth, the sublimer doctrines of the New Testament should, in the same manner, be impressed upon the heart, at such times and seasons as the impression is likely to be most favourably received. Of this I shall have occasion to speak more at large in the subsequent volume; I cannot, however, at present close the subject without mentioning the satisfaction I received from observing, that the person in the world, for whose judgment I have the most implicit reverence, pursued with her pupils the very plan I have here recommended. She, I hope, will pardon me for giving to the public a lesson so instructive, as the mode of illustra

tion by example is in general more efficacious than any other.

The incident that explained to me the method of religious instruction adopted by this best of parents, was as follows. Two of her children having had a quarrel, which each considered herself the injured party, could not, as each had something to complain of, be brought to an immediate reconciliation: at least she thought the reconciliation not so hearty as she wished it. In the course of conversation the following day, examples of virtue in the Old and New Testament were mentioned, and the perfection of the latter extolled. Suppose, said the judicious instructress, that we were to look out for some proof of this superiority. Let us take an incident in the life of David, where his character appears to great advantage. The proposal was acquiesced in instantly, and one of the young ladies immediately read the account of David's finding his enemy Saul asleep in the cave, and generously refusing to take advantage of this event, in the manner to which he was urged by the importunity of his friends, and the passion of revenge. The remorse he felt at having so far given way to the suggestion of his passion, as to inflict a slight disgrace on his sleeping adversary, was then evinced from a perusal of the penitentiary psalm composed on the occasion. When it was observed, that the sentiments and conduct of David had excited attention and obtained applause, the superior benignity and divine forgiveness of the Blessed JESUS was referred to, and commented on with that energy which never fails to search the heart.

I appeal to the reader, whether the reflections

thus suggested would be useless or transitory, and whether they would not be likely to have greater influence upon the heart and conduct, than the most arduous explanation upon any point of metaphysical theology.

"The counsels of religion," to use the words of a venerable and pious bishop,* "are not to be applied to the distempers of the soul, as men use to take hellebore, but they must dwell together with the spirit of a man, and be twisted about his understanding for ever; they must be used like nourishment, not like a single medicine, and upon the actual pressure of a present necessity. For counsels and wise discourses applied to an actual distemper at the best are but like strong smells to an epileptic person-sometimes they may raise him, "but they never cure him." Would we have religion become this animating principle, this stamina of the mind, we must follow the advice of this very learned and edifying author, and administer our instruction upon religious subjects as daily bread, in such portions as the appetite calls for, and nature can digest; and not as a nauseous medicine, which they must be forced to take for the good of their souls. Thus shall we best fulfil the benign command of Him who emphatically said, "Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid them not." Adieu.

* Taylor.

LETTER VIE

ASSOCIATIONS PRODUCING BENEVOLENCE.

State of infancy favourable to the cultivation of the benevolent affections.--Tendency of every passion to produce passions of the class to which it belongs.---Malevolent and dissocial passions inspired by the gratification of self-will.---Examples.

HAVING attended to those associations which inspire devotional sentiment, or the love of Gov, let us now proceed to the consideration of the associations by which the spirit of benevolence and philanthropy is made to diffuse its divine and abiding influence over the human heart.

Benevolence, in a general sense, includes all the sympathetic affections by which we are made to rejoice in the happiness, and grieve at the misery, of others. It disposes the mind to sociality, generosity, and gratitude, and is the fountain of compassion and mercy. All the qualities belonging to benevolence have a tendency to produce peace and complacency in the breast; so that the happiness of the individual as well as of society is intimately concerned in their cultivation. The passions which it inspires, are all of the amiable class, as love, hope, joy, &c.; and these passions in their turn increase the dispositions to benevolence, a disposition for the growth and nourishment of which the goodness of Providence has in the state of infancy made ample provision.

The helplessness of the infant state is protracted in man to a period far beyond that of other animals; and this helplessness, by inspiring compassion and tenderness in the breast of adults, has a powerful tendency to keep alive the spirit of benevolence in the human heart. Wherever human policy has counteracted the wise designs of nature, by taking children from their parents at an early age, and separating them into a distinct society, for the purpose of education, the sympathetic affections have become extinct; a striking instance of which occurs in the history of ancient Sparta, where the murder of infants was, in certain circumstances, not only enjoined by the laws, but permitted by the parents without the least remorse.

Luxury, which is ever at war with nature, has, perhaps, in no instance done a greater injury to the interests of benevolence, than by introducing as a fashion that premature separation of children from their parents, which the Spartan legislator enjoined as a duty. If the exercise of parental tenderness softens the heart, so as to render it eminently susceptible of all the sympathetic and social affections, it is the interest of society that the objects of it should not be suddenly removed from the parental roof.

According to the wise provision of nature, the fond endearments of parental love not only increase the benevolent feelings in the breast of the parent, but produce a disposition to them in the breast of the child, which is soon made sensible of the source from whence its happiness is derived. A judicious parent will take advantage of this circumstance, to