the griefs which sensibility introduces, are counterbalanced by pleasures which flow from the same source. Sensibility heightens in general the human powers, and is connected with acuteness in all our feelings. If it makes us more alive to some painful sensations, in return, it renders the pleasing ones more vivid and animated. The selfish man languishes in his narrow circle of pleasures. They are confined to what affects his own interest. He is obliged to repeat the same gra tifications, till they become insipid. But the man of virtuous sensibility moves in a wider sphere of felicity. His powers are much more frequently called forth into occupations of pleasing activity. Numberless occasions open to faim of indulging his favorite taste, by conveying satisfaction to others. Often it is in his power, in one way or other, to sooth the afflicted heart; to carry some consolation into the house of woe. In the scenes of ordinary life, in the domes sic and social intercourse of men, the cordiality of his affec tions cheers and gladdens him. Every appearance, every description of innocent happiness, is enjoyed by him. Ev ery native expression of kindness and affection among others, is felt by him, even though he be not the object of it. A. mong a circle of friends enjoying one another, he is as bappy as the happiest. In a word, he lives in a different sort of world from what the selfish man inhabits. He possesses a new sense that cuables him to behold objects which the sel Ash cannot see. At the same time, his enjoyments are not of that kind which remain merely on the surface of the mind. They penetrate the heart. They enlarge and elevate, they refine and ennoble it. To all the pleasing emotions of alfection, they add the dignified consciousness of virtue.-Children of men! men formed by nature to live and to feel as brethren! how long will ye continue to estrange your selves from one another by competitions and jealousies, when in cordial union ye might be so much more blest? How long will ye seek your happiness in selfish gratifications alone, neglecting those purer and better sources of joy, which flow from the affections and the heart?

SECTION XII.

ON THE TRUE HONOR OF MAN.

BLAIR

Tux proper koner of man arises from some of those

splendid actions and abilities, which excite high admiration. Courage and prowess, military renown, signal victories and conquests, may render the name of a man famous without rendering his character truly honorable. To many brave men, to many heroes renowned in history, we look up with wonder. Their exploits are recorded. Their praises are sung. They stand as en an eminence above the rest of mankind. Their eminence, nevertheless, may not be of that sort before which we bow with inward esteem and respect. Something more is wasted for that purpose, than the conquering arm and the intrepid miad. The laurels of the warrior must at all times be dyed in blood, and bedewed with the tears of the widow and the orphan. But if they have been stained by rapine and inhumanity; if sordid avarice has marked his character; or low and gross sensuality has degraded his life; the great hero sinks into a little man.What at a distance, or on a superficial view, we admired, becomes mean, perhaps odious, when we examine it more closely. It is like the Colossal statue, whose immense size struck the spectator afar off with astonishment; but when nearly viewed, it appears disproportioned, unshapely, and rude.

Observations of the same kind may be applied to all the reputation derived from civil accomplishments; from the refined politics of the statesman; or the literary efforts of genius and erudition. These bestow, and within certain bounds, ought to bestow, eminence and distinction on men. they discover talents which in themselves are shining; and which become highly valuable, when employed in advancing the good of mankind. Hence, they frequently give rise to fame. But a distinction is to be made between fame and true honor. The statesman, the orator, or the poet, may be famous ; while yet the man himself is far from being honored. We evy his abilities. We wish to rival them. But we would not choose to be classed with him who possessed them. In stances of this sort are too often found in every record of an cient or modern history.

From all this it follows, that in order to discern where man's true honor lies, we must look, not to any adventitious circumstance of fortune; not to any single sparkling quali ty: but to the whole of what forms a man; what entitled him, as such, to rank high among that class of beings to which be belongs; in a word, we must look to the mind and the

soul. A mind superior to fear, to selfish interest and cor ruption; a mind governed by the principles of uniform rec titude and integrity; the same in prosperity and adversity; which no bribe can seduce, nor terror overawe; neither by pleasure melted into effeminacy, nor by distress sunk into dejection; such is the mind which forms the distinction and eminence of man. One, who in no situation of life, is either ashamed or afraid of discharging his duty, and acting. his proper part with firmness and constancy; true to the God whom he worships, and true to the faith which he professes to believe; full of affection to his brethren of mankind; faithful to his friends, generous to his enemies, warm with compassion to the unfortunate; self-denying to little privateinterests and pleasures, but zealous for public interest and happiness; magnanimous, without being proud; humble, without being mean; just, without being harsh; simple in his manners, but manly in his feelings; on whose word we can entirely rely; whose countenance never deceives us; whose professions of kindness are the effusions of his heart: one, in fine, whom independent of any views of advantage, we would choose for a superior, could trust in as a friend, and eould love as a brother. This is the man, whom în our heart, above all others, we do, we must honer.

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SECTION XIII

BLAIR.

THE INFLUENCE OF DEVOTION ON THE HAPPINESS
OF LIFE.

WHATEVER promotes and strengthens virtue, whatever dalms and regulates the temper, is a source of happiness.→→→ Devotion produces these effects in a remarkable degree. 1 Inspires composure of spirit, mildness and benignity weakens the painful, and cherishes the pleasing emotions; and by these means, carries on the life of a pious man in a smoothand placid tenor.

Besides exerting this habitual influence on the mind, der votion opens a field of enjoyments, to which the vicious are entire strangers; enjoyments the more valuable, as they pe quliarly belong to retirement, when the world leaves us, and to adversity, when it becomes our fee. These are the twe

seasons, for which every wise man would most wish to provide some hidden store of comfort. For let him be placed in the most favorable situation which the human state admits, the world can neither always amuse him, nor always simeld him from distress. There will be many hours of vacuity, and many of dejection, in his life. If he be a stranger to God, and to devotion, how dreary will the gloom of solitude often prove! With what oppressive weight will sickness, disappointment, or old age, fall upon his spirits! But for those pensive periods, the pious man has a relief prepared. From the tiresome repetition of the common vasitics of life, or from the painful corrosion of its cares and sorrows, devotion trapsports him into a new region; and surrounds him there with such objects as are the most fitted to cheer the dejection, to calm the tumults, and to heal the wounds of his heart. If the world has been empty and delusive, it gladdens him with the prospect of a higher and better order of things about to arise. if men have been ungrateful and base, it displays before him the faithfulness of that Supreme Being, who, though every other friend fail, will never forsake him. Let us consult our experience, and we shall find, that the two greatest sources of inward joy, are, the exercise of love directed towards a deserving object, and the exercise of hope terminating on some high and assured happiness. Both these are supplied by devotion; and therefore we have no reason to be surprised, if on some occasions, it fills the hearts: of good men with a satisfaction not to be expressed.

The refined pleasures of a pious mind, are in many res pects, superior to the coarse gratifications of sense. They are pleasures which belong to the highest powers and best affections of the soul; whereas the gratifications of sense reside in the lowest region of our nature. To the latter the

goul stoops below its native dignity. The former raises above itself. The latter, leaves always a comfortless, often a mortifying, remembrance behind them. The former are res viewed with applause and delight. The pleasures of sense resemble a foaming torrent, which, after a disorderly course, speedily runs out, and leaves an empty and offensive channel. But the pleasures of devotion resemble the equable current of a pure river, which enlivens the fields through which it passes, and diffuses verdure and tertility along its banks. To hee, O devotion! we owe the highest improvement of our of nature, any of the enjoyment of our lifes Thou art

the support of our virtue, and the rest of our souls, in this turbulent world. Thou composest the thoughts. Thou calmest the passions. Thou exalteth the heart. Thy communications, and thine only, are imparted to the low, no less than the high; to the poor, as well as to the rich. Iu thy presence, worldly distinctions cease; and under thy influence, worldly sorrows are forgotten. Thou art the balm of the wounded mind. Thy sanctuary is ever open to the miserable; inaccessible only to the unrighteous and impure. Thou beginnest on earth the temper of heaven. In thee, the host. of angels and blessed spirits eternally rejoice.

SECTION XIV.

BLAIR

THE PLANETARY AND TERRESTRIAL WORLDS
COMPARITIYELY CONSIDERED.

To us who dwell on its surface, the earth is by far the most extensive orb that dr eyes can any where behold: it is also clothed with verdure, distinguished by trees, and adorned with a variety of beautiful decorations; whereas, to a spectator placed on one of the planets, it wears a uniform aspect; looks all luminous; and no larger than a spot. To beings who dwell at still greater distances, it entirely disappears. That which we call alternately the morning and the evening star, as in one part of the orbit she rides foremost in the procession of the night, in the other, ushers in and anicipates the dawn, is a planetary world, which with the four others that so wonderfully vary their mistic dance, are in themselves dark bodies, and shine only by reflection; have fields and seas, and skies of their own; are furnished with all accomodations for animal subsistence, and are supposed to be the abodes of intellectual life; all which, together with our earthly habitation, are dependent on that grand dispenser of divine munificence, the sun; receive their light from the distribution of his rays, and derive their comfort from his be◄ nigu agency.

The sun, which seems to perform its daily stages through the sky, is in this respect fixed and immoveable: it is the great axle of heaven, about which, the globe we inhabit, and ther more spacious orbs, wheel their stated courses. The , though seemingly smaller than the dia!