scorn; as if it were of no importance to the well-being of society, or that it had no tendency to improve the world, and regene. rate its inhabitants. They have attempted to represent the whole of that beautiful and venerable fabric, which has so long commanded the respect and secured the homage of the virtuous and the good, which for ages has gained the reverence of the learned, and the plaudits of the wise, as having originated in the gloomy conceptions of fanatics and visionaries; who delighted in extravagant hypotheses, and revelled in unsubstantial theories.

When men are first initiated in vice, and in the incipient stages of dissipation, it is commonly the case, that they are anxious to conceal their faults, and gratify their passions in secret; to make use rather of artifice and cunning, than of undisguised impudence and avowed effrontery. But the arts of subterfuge and hypocrisy are in time found useless and unavailing, and some untoward circumstance arises, to defeat their measures, and baffle those plans which they had cautiously laid and prepared, for preventing a premature discovery. At length, in the progress of events, others begin to suspect them of those practices which they themselves were wont before as undisguisedly to abominate; till curiosity, that restless and insatiable passion of the mind, becomes awakened, suspicion begins to operate, and at last they are so closely pursued, that their deeds are made manifest, and their ignominious fate, which inevitably follows, is memorialized to the world as a beacon to warn others of immediate and certain destruction. It is then too late to think of deceiving mankind by false appearances and unbased pretexts; and nothing remains but to avow and palliate what can be no longer denied, or concealed from public observation and public reprobation.

Such is the deplorable state of a man totally abandoned to the indulgence of vicious inclinations and wicked practices; the enormity of the deed to him loses almost all its inherent turpitude; and he is compelled by habit to regard the dictates of uncurbed and capricious passion, in action and in thought, as more commanding than the voice of reason and the monitions of conscience. He justifies one crime by the commission of another, even more flagrant; cherishes wicked principles, in order to support vicious practices; endeavours to corrupt others, rather than own himself defiled and debased; and, to avoid a confession of his crimes, which would be accompanied by a feeling of shame, and painful sensations of remorse, he calls "evil good, and good

evil, puts darkness for light, and light for darkness." Hence, he endeavours to depise and ridicule those laws which he is known constantly and systematically to violate; and scoffs at the very truths of religion, which, if once admitted, and allowed to exert their drastic influence, would be in direct opposition to his conduct and procedure, and have an evident tendency to convict his whole behaviour of extreme folly and positive absurdity.

Our chief business as humble inquirers after truth should be, to search for it with an untiring patience and an unremitting diligence; to emulate each other in a holy competition in making discoveries of this inestimable gem; to strive ardently, deliberately, and carefully; constantly animated with the hope, if successful, of actual possession, and that the efficacious power which it is capable of imparting, will be a permanent benefit, equally to the individual inheritor, as to a community through which it may be extended and diffused. To believe a thing to be true or false, merely because others assert it, is highly culpable; and displays an unprecedented degree of neglect, palpable and blameable in the extreme, in the most important concern in which it is possible for us to engage. still let it be remembered, that the nature of things in themselves good, are not alterable by our conduct, neither do they lose their intrinsic excellence because our prejudices are opposed to them. Therefore, a proposition of eternal moment, involving human destiny, can become neither less certain nor important, by being regarded and considered, or neglected and despised.

But

The apostle Saint Peter, in his second epistle to the Christian church, solemnly predicted, that "there shall come in the last days scoffers, walking after their own lusts;" a prediction which in our time we have too often seen verified and fulfilled. As the insinuations of such men against religion, have in some instances proved a stumblingblock to the weak, and the parade of their shallow objections has entrapped the unwary, we will briefly turn our attention to this interesting subject.

The doctrines which Christianity inculcates are strictly rational, perfectly pure, and singularly adapted to the nature, and precisely adequate to the wants, of man, as a fallen creature, in a state of probation. All that it has revealed and announced, concerning the perfections of God, his moral government and laws, the certainty of a future state, and the appointment of rewards and punishments hereafter, are not opposed to reason, but rather corroborated

by its sanctions; though it must be acknow ledged, that some of its articles, from the present limitation of our faculties, we are unable sufficiently to comprehend. Questions which relate to the essence of the Godhead-the origin of evil-the fallen state of mankind-and their redemption by the incarnation of the Son of God-are now involved in a degree of mystery, inscrutably dark, which the developments of eternity, and the superior light of another sphere, can alone illuminate, unravel, and explain. Against these, the scoffer has often lifted his weapons of invective, and sported the jests of the buffoon, as if whatever could not be explained by finite ingenuity, ought necessarily to be exploded as absurd, and regarded as a chimera.

It is unnecessary to rebut the objections we have above enumerated, separately; as there is one observation, founded on analogical reasoning, which, if duly weighed and properly considered, is sufficient to silence the cavils of the scoffer, and place the disputant in an awkward dilemma. He is compelled to admit, that the whole system of material nature around him teems with mysteries absolutely dark and insolvable. Why then does he suppose that the doctrines of revelation, the offspring of the same divine Parent, and the production of the same Almighty Author, should be solely divested of obscurity? All that is requisite for the conduct of temporal life, and likewise for the attainment of spiritual life, both in the diversified system of nature, and the ample volume of religion, divine wisdom has rendered plain and intelligible in all their parts. As nature has provided us with suitable instincts and adequate information, concerning what is proper for our food, our comfort, and preservation; so religion has plainly and abundantly in structed us in our duty towards God, and obligation to our species. But when we attempt to search into what is profoundly hidden, and hermetically sealed, from the scrutinizing approach of beings whose powers are limited; when we fruitlessly endeavour to be "wise above that which is written," our efforts prove abortive, and darkness, even darkness that may be felt, meets us on either hand.

After the same manner, there are similar difficulties which arrest the attention in the study of natural religion. Here questions arise," thick as autumnal leaves that strew the brooks in Vallombrosa," concerning the creation of the world from nothing, the subsequent state of chaos whence order was educed from confusion, the existence of evil under the government of a perfect and

holy Being, and the compatibility of human liberty with divine prescience. These are equally as intricate and perplexing as any of the deep and inexplicable questions that may be found in the study of Christian theology. The system of nature, animate and inanimate, undoubtedly is full of mystery, especially the essences of those material bodies we inspect and handle, which possess the property of reproduction. In them there is an arcanum which we cannot enter and explore, without the requisite clue; there are many cabalistic monuments in the range of the material world, both near and remote, the hieroglyphic characters inscribed on which, we are now totally unable to decipher or interpret. But instead of this being any objection to revelation, or derogating from its value, namely, that some of the doctrines in the Christian system are mysterious, it would have been much more incongruous, and likewise have given to it the appearance of being destitute of the least trace of cohe. rence subsisting between them, if none had exceeded our comprehension, or surpassed our knowledge; and then there might have been some propriety in supposing it had not proceeded from God, since it would have been then so dissimilar to what is presented to our notice in the system of visible nature. But as they are now exhibited, they perfectly harmonize with each other; they each help to elucidate the obscurities which gather round either, when considered sepa. rately; but when viewed together, the exact correspondence which is maintained, aid us to solve the difficulties in which we find them involved.

If we advert to the didactic portion of the doctrines of the Christian religion, which the scoffer has often stigmatized and pronounced idle and superfluous, as the misshapen abortions of fear, and the monstrous progeny of enthusiasm; we shall invariably find them distinguished for simplicity and propriety, unencumbered by extraneous matter, and lustrous in purity, possessing the clearest credentials that they are the exclusive emanations of the Divine Lawgiver. The scoffer considers that the Deity is so exalted, and resides at such an infinite distance as to be inaccessible to his creatures; and, therefore, can derive no advantage, nor receive any pleasure, from our expressions of homage and prostrations of worship. Prayer and praise, he affirms, can be of no avail to that self-existent Being, at whose fiat streams of ceaseless felicity spontaneously flow, and constantly meander before his own immediate dwelling-place: that sacred days, and prescribed forms of

adoration, were originally dictated by superstition, and supported by imaginary terrors; upon which vulgar and untutored minds delight to descant, but which the liberal and refined look upon with indignation and scorn.

Now, as a counteractive to the insults of the scoffer, if we refer to either ancient or modern history, we shall assuredly find, in the united sentiments of mankind, of every era, and under whatever dynasty, (providing the one were sufficiently recondite to frame archives, and the other strictly impartial in its records,) that their aggregate testimony, when accumulated and combined, contradicts his assertion, and renders his objections baseless and nugatory. For, thoughtless and indisposed to reflect as the majority of men are, solely attracted and mainly influenced by objects which they see around them, either of a sensual order or a material texture, this principle has never been eradicated from, nor extinguished in, the human breast, though it may have been materially modified; that to the great Parent of all, the creator and benefactor of the world, not only the reverence of the heart is due, but likewise external homage is a tribute which ought voluntarily and cheerfully to be paid to the mighty Governor of the world and the universal Potentate. Whether homage and worship are indispensable to an independent being, is not the question we have to investigate; but, that we are deeply indebted to Him "in whom we live, and move, and have our being;" and that emotions of the profoundest gratitude to such an exalted benefactor, it is our bounden duty to cultivate and inspire. It is a proof of the genuineness of the source whence virtue arises, when it is incessantly eager to embrace every opportunity to publish and avow the grateful sentiments which it feels rising and swelling within, and to give them utterance in all the dignity of expressive animation.

In accordance with this sentiment, it has been the uniform practice, from time immemorial, of most nations on the face of the globe, whether polished or rude, to assemble and adore, in some, or every variety of form, the Creator and controller of the world. In this manner, the spontaneous dictates of the heart have prompted men, of whatever rank and distinction, cheerfully to engage in singing songs of praise, and uttering apostrophes of worship, to an invisible Ruler. There are none to be found but the apathetic and ungrateful, who can contemplate the unbounded beneficence which the Almighty displays in the universe that he has formed; (for even in this

temporary abode, we perceive it to be diversified with innumerable beauties, which silently proclaim, that in its primitive state, before sin entered Eden, it must have been filled with many a noble monument of the good and fair, possessing an astonishing fecundity of delights, and an illimitable range of the purest enjoyments,) without making one solitary effort to evince their gratitude. Therefore, it is palpably useless for the scoffer to deride what the legitimate dictates of nature, and the loud voice of conscience, sternly require, and invariably applaud.

The scoffer, by his licentious ridicule and indecorous remarks on the duties of piety, and the institutions of religion, incurs an awful amount of guilt; he is the odious instrument of propagating a crime, the extent of which is inconceivable, and its magnitude incalculably great. His proceedings tend to weaken the power of conscience in restraining the actions of men ; he is, in reality, essaying to remove the safeguard of society, and attempting to demolish the firmest rampart of public order and domestic happiness. These are primarily founded, and principally consolidated, by the prevalent belief of an omniscient witness, and by the profound veneration which the thought of an omnipotent Governor is calculated to excite. An unshaken belief in these verities constitutes the whole obligation of an oath; destitute of which, the intricate machinery of government could not exert its functions, justice be impartially administered, nor could private property be effectually secured from invasion. the strong apprehension of an invisible avenger, and the dread of future punishments in reversion for the guilty, which are the only adequate restraints that can be imposed, were to be removed from the human mind, we should have no security against the perpetration of innumerable crimes; successful wickedness would triumph, and unobtrusive virtue be defeated.

If

But if religion were to be universally despised, and its institutions constantly derided, how would it be possible for its regulating and restraining influences to be exerted, so as to conduce to the public welfare? If those who assemble for the purpose of religious instruction were to be dispersed, and the holy day appropriated for rest and sacred worship abolished, the enemies of the Christian faith might glory, even though it ought to be their shame, and an indelible token of disgrace; since the performance and strict observance of sacred duties were originally intended to

the owner, who himself was often employed in the same service. In the summer they generally moved towards the north, or occupied the loftier part of the mountains; in the winter they returned to the south, or sought a favourable retreat in the valleys. A shepherd was exposed to all the changes of the season, as the flocks required to be watched by day and by night, under the open sky. Thus Jacob describes his service:-"In the day the drought consumed me, and the frost by night; and my sleep departed from mine eyes." So also the shepherds were watching their flocks by night, when the angel of the Lord came down with the glad tidings of a Saviour's birth. The flocks, however, did not give so much trouble, as we might imagine such vast numbers would. They grew familiar with the rules of order, and learned to conform themselves to the wishes of their keeper, on the slightest notice. They became acquainted with his voice, and, when called by its sound, immediately gathered around him. It was even common to give every individual of the flock its own name, to which it learned to attend, as horses and dogs are accustomed to do among us. If the keeper's voice was at any time not heeded, or could not reach some straggling party, he had but to tell his dog, who was almost wise enough to manage the flock by himself, and immediately he was seen bounding over the distance, and rapidly restoring all to obedience and order. When he wanted to remove them from one place to another, he called them all together, and marched before them with his staff in his hand, and his dog by his side, like a general at the head of his army. Such is the beautiful discipline which is often seen in the flocks of the Eastern shepherds. With a knowledge of these circumstances, we can better understand the language of our Saviour, in his beautiful parable of the Shepherd and his flock: "The sheep hear his voice; and he calleth his own sheep by name, and leadeth them out. And when he putteth forth his own sheep, he goeth before them, and the sheep follow him, for they know his voice. And a stranger they will not follow, but will flee from him, for they know not the voice of strangers."*

Building on the Sand.

"I will liken him unto a foolish man, which built and the floods came, and the winds blew, and beat upon that house; and it fell," Matt. vii. 26, 27.

his house upon the sand: and the rain descended,

The fishermen of Bengal build their huts, in the dry season, on the beds of sand, from which the river has retired. When the rains set in, which they often do very

suddenly, accompanied with violent north. west winds, the water pours down in torrents from the mountains. In one night, multitudes of these huts are frequently swept away, and the place where they stood is, the next morning, undiscoverable.†

"It so happened, that we were to witness one of the greatest calamities that have occurred in Egypt in the recollection of any one living. The Nile rose this season three feet and a half above the highest mark left by the former inundation, with uncommon rapidity, and carried off several villages, and some hundreds of their inhabitants. I never saw any picture that could give a more correct idea of the deluge, than the valley of the Nile in this season. The Arabs had expected an extraordinary inundation this year, in consequence of the scarcity of water the preceding season; but they did not apprehend it would rise to such a height. They generally erect fences of earth and reeds round their villages, to keep the water from their houses; but the force of this inundation baffled all their efforts. Their cottages being built of earth, could not stand one instant against the current : and no sooner did the water reach them, than it levelled them with the ground. The rapid stream carried off all that was before it; men, women, children, cattle, corn, every thing, was washed away in an instant, and left the place where the village stood, without any thing to indicate that there had ever been a house on the spot."

Nieven's Biblical Antiquities.

+ Ward's View of the Hindoos, vol. ii. p. 335. Belzoni's Researches in Egypt, p. 299.

VISIT TO THE ASIATIC CHURCHES.

THE astonishing loss of population, which those parts of the world have sustained since ancient times, is still more affecting. I have wandered amidst the ruins of Ephesus, and had ocular and auricular demonstration, that where once assembled thousands exclaimed, "Great is Diana of the Ephesians," now the eagle screams, the jackal moans, the echoes of Mount Prion and Mount Coryssus no longer reply to the voice of man. I have stood on the hill of Laodicea, and I found it without a single resident inhabitant. There was, indeed, an inferiority in its desolations to those of Babylon. Of Babylon it was predicted, "The Arabian shall not (Isaiah xiii. 20.) pitch tent there." At Laodicea, the Turcoman had pitched his migratory tent in the area of its ancient amphitheatre; but I saw neither church nor temple, mosque nor minaret, nor a single permanent abode.