creatures, whose hearts are enmity against God, either delight to do his will here, or be meet for his beatific presence hereafter?

Under the influence of such convictions, that new birth which the gospel ef Christ promises, which the Spirit of God produces, will appear as necessary for your state, and be as welcome to your soul, as these gentle dews are necessary for the languishing herbs, and welcome to the thirsty

soil.

Ther. The dews, though refreshing to the flowers, may be too chilly for ur constitutions. And see the star of evening, by proclaiming the approach of night, has given us a warning to quit our arbour. Some other time we must resume this inquiry; for I am by no means satisfied that your theory agrees with experience.

Asp. I fear I have already kept you out too long. Let me just observe as we go in, that the doctrine, however disagreeable in itself, is conducted to an advantageous issue. It is productive of a much more substantial conolation, than history assigns to the great, but exiled Marius. When he fled, with his ruined circumstances, to linger out the poor remains of life among the ruins of Carthage, what was his chief support? "Contemplating," says the historian, "that famous city in the dust, he was the less afflicted with his own downfall."

We have not been put off with such cold comforts, such negative benefits. The belief of original sin has a tendency to make us humble, to shew us our need of Christ, to create in us a hunger and thirst after the renewing influences of his Spirit, and the justifying merit of his righteousness. So that it must be owing to our own perverseness, or our own negligence, if we do not levy a tax upon our loss, and rise even by our fall.

DIALOGUE XII.

The sun was fiercely bright, and the sky without a cloud. Not a breath fanned the woods, nor a gale curled the stream. The fields, exposed to a'l the fiery beams, were like a glowing hearth. The little birds, overcome by the potent influence, lost for a while their tuneful notes. Nothing was heard in the garden but the drowsy hum of bees, and the moaning buzz of winged insects. All nature seemed to languish, the flourishing meads looked sickly, the gayest blossoms began to fade, the sprightliest animals, if not reposed under some cooling shelter, panted for breath, and hung their drooping heads, amidst the all-surrounding blaze and the unsufferable heat. Aspasio had disappeared ever since dinner, and none could tell whither he was gone. Theron, as soon as the tea equipage was removed, took his way to the wood. Desirous of the thickest shade, he hastened to the centre. A serpentine walk composed the avenue, which, after several windings, delivered him into a large circular area, not covered with a Grecian or Roman temple, unmeaning imitation of Pagan idolatry, but surrounded with aged and princely oaks, the coalition of whose branches threw over the grassy plat, a majestic, rural dome, and their unpierced foliage "imbrowned the noontide hours."

In the midst, and elevated on a square base, was a statue representing the venerable Elijah on his bended knees, with his hands stretched out, and eyes

lifted up to heaven. Ilis attitude, his air, his every feature, were a mo lively comment on those strong energetic expressions of Scripture, “Tak hold on God," Isa. Ixiv. 7; "Wrestle with the Almighty*, Col. iv. 12 "Pour out your hearts before him," Psalm lxii. 8. On one side of th pedestal were engraved the priests of Baal, in frantic emotions calling upo their senseless deity, and gashing themselves with unavailing wounds. 0 the other was exhibited, in basso-relievo, the adoring Tishbite's altar; h victim burning with fire from the Lord, even while the water ran froi every limb, and overflowed the trench below.

A remote cascade tumbled from a craggy rock. The stream, after havin wasted its silver foam in a winding progress, straggled into this grand arbou Here it just appeared, gliding down a gentle slope, with a flaunting air an a prattling noise. Impressed, as it were, with the unexpected solemnity the scene, it seemed to check its wanton waves, and turned aside into a mor sequestered path: as some heedless trifler, who bolts unawares into the roy presence, stands struck with reverence and awe, or retires with precipitanc and confusion.

The deep gloom, shedding a kind of night, even while the sun glared i the sky;-not a whisper stirring among so many millions of leaves, and al their warbling natives hushed in silence ;-the sonorous toll of the distan cascade, and the tinkling chime of the nearer rill;-the profound adoration and fervent devotion, which lived in the lineaments of the impassione stone:—all these circumstances rendered the place prodigiously august and striking. Not much unlike the ancient oratories, where holy people retired from the giddy ring and the bustling crowd, to ennoble their minds with sub lime contemplation; where they bade a temporary adieu to the tumultuous world, its gay impertinence and solemn dullness, in order to maintain a more uninterrupted communion with that mighty Being, "who sitteth upon the circle of the earth, and the inhabitants thereof are as grasshoppers before him;" Isa. xl. 22†.

Welcome to Theron was the shady bower; welcome the cool aspect and the musical flow of the water; but more welcome than all was the sight of his friend, who lay reclined at the foot of an oak, with a book half open in his hand, and his eye fixed upon the statue.

Ther. I know not, Aspasio, whether I must make an apology for breaking in upon your retirement; or call you to an account for depriving the ladies of your company at the tea-table.

Asp. Indeed, Theron, I have been so much delighted with the place, with the companion in my hand, and the noble object before me, that I scarce observed how the time stole away. And I flatter myself, if you will take a seat by my side, and share my entertainment, you will be more inclined to excuse than to aggravate my fault.

Ther. Is Tully then (for I observe his name on the volume) your compa

* Αγωνιζόμενος εν ταις προσευχαίς.

+ What a noble image is here, and what an exquisitely fine contrast! God, the great God, sitteth on those lofty and immense heavens, which, at an inconceivable distance, surround this pensile globe. From that most sublime and magnificent throne he looks down upon the inhabitants of the earth; who, in all their pomp and splendour, amidst all their admired works and boasted acquisitions, are mean and impotent in his sight; mean and impotent, as the poor insects which wander over the parched heath for sustenance, which nd all the day in idle insignificant chirpings, and at night take up their contemptible stion on a blade of grass.

nion? And can such a devoted admirer of the Bible be so highly charmed with a heathen classic? St. Augustin somewhere declares, that though passionately fond, before his conversion, of Tully's writings, yet after that memorable change, he could no longer relish those admired compositions; because they were not sweetened, as he expresses himself, with the mellifluous name of Jesus.

Asp. I am far from pretending to such an exalted pitch of devotion as that seraphic father attained. I can spend a vacant minute on the delicate odes of Horace, and taste a refined entertainment in Virgil's beautiful poem. But when I hear a sermon, or peruse a religious treatise, which borrows neither dignity nor charms from that amiable and glorious name, I own myself extremely disappointed. Without the offices, the merits, or the grace of Christ, the sermon and the treatise appear as defective, as a body that is neither adorned with the head nor enlivened with the heart.

Ther. I suppose then you cultivate an acquaintance with the Grecian and Roman authors, in order to improve your taste, and polish your style.

Asp. These, and, I am apt to think, more considerable advantages than these, may be derived from an occasional application to their works. They may serve as so many shades, to set off with heightened lustre the beauty and glory of the sacred oracles.

While I peruse Plato's ornamented page, or listen to Cicero's flowing periods, I am somewhat like the person who amuses himself in a gallery of painted flowers. He is pleased with the curious creation of the pencil; but finds none of that delicious fragrance, none of those breathing sweets, which meet him in the garden, and regale his sense from the blooming parterre. So here are brilliant sentiments and a florid diction; delicate touches of wit, and bold strokes of description: but no discovery of Christ Jesus, no displays of his ineffable love, no overtures of reconciliation with the blessed God; nothing to yield us solid comfort in our present state, or any joyful expectations with regard to the approaching eternity.

Besides, when I converse with those celebrated geniuses of antiquity, who were at once the most erroneous and the most judicious-the most judicious in their taste of polite literature, the most erroneous in their apprehensions of invisible things-they shew me, what they never intended, the inexpressible need of revelation. They teach me to set a higher value on that inestimable gift. I bless the distinguishing goodness of Providence, which has cast my lot*, not at Athens, but in Emmanuel's land. I say, with wonder and gratitude, "Why did not my existence commence in those eras of religious dotage? Why was not my portion confined to those regions of barbarism and delusion? Why am I not burning incense to idols, paying senseless adoration to sculptured stone, or worshipping, with detestable ceremonies, a set of lascivious, debauched, and scandalous deities?"-Surely, Theron, from every perusal of those volumes, attended with such a reflection, we shall see the utmost reason to magnify "the tender mercies of our God; whereby the dayspring from on high hath visited us," Luke i. 78, and brought us out of darkness into the marvellous light of the Gospel.

Alluding to the story of the philosopher who used to bless the gods for three privileges:-That he was made not a brute, but a rational creature; that he was born not in barbarous climes, but in Greece; that he lived not in the more uncultivated ages, but in the time and under the tuition of Socrates.

Permit me to mention another benefit which may result from a correspondence with those masterly writers. The streams may lead us to the inexhaustible fountain; lead us to admire the only wise God our Saviour, who has given such a shining vein of ingenuity to his rational creatures. As I read their works, and am charmed with their beauties, I would frequently reflect—“ If the essays of a finite mind, and the compositions of a mortal pen, yield such high satisfaction, what rapturous, what unknown delight, must arise from an uninterrupted communion with Infinite Wisdom! To stand, not at the feet of Homer, and attend the flights of his elevated imagination; not in the presence of Socrates, and hear the dictates of his sagacious soul; but to stand in the courts of the Lord, and before the throne of the Lamb, there to contemplate, without any interposing veil, the counsels of his unerring providence ; to have the mysteries of his redeeming love laid fully open to our view; and receive the brightest manifestations of all his amiable, his adorable, his unspeakable attributes ?"

Ther. These are advantages truly desirable, and equally obvious. Methinks, it surprises me that I should never so much as propose them, and grieves me that I should so long be deprived of them. A view to such very superior improvements will, I hope, render my future intercourse with those favourite authors still more agreeable, and abundantly more beneficial. —But let me ask, what passage was engaging your attention this afternoon? Asp. The great orator's treatise concerning the "Nature of the Divine Being*;" that part especially which proves his existence and perfections from the formation of the human body.

Ther. And do you not perceive, that he is almost as deficient in the knowledge of his subject, as he is mistaken in his ideas of the Supreme Cause? The exquisite contrivance and inimitable workmanship of the human frame, were, in those early ages, but dimly discerned. It was the infancy of anatomy, when the very professors had scarcely the qualifications of a modern pupil. Many of the received notions were childish, almost all of them superficial.

Asp. Will my Theron entertain me with a more accurate description of this wonderful structure?

Ther. How could you take occasion, Aspasio, from the hint I dropped, to conceive any such expectation? It is one thing to discover, another to correct, what is amiss. Many spectators can point out an accidental defect in some celebrated statue, or a small indelicacy in some valuable piece of painting, who are absolutely incapable of retouching the one or supplying the other.

Asp. Since we are fallen upon this point, you must give me leave to renew and urge my request. I shall be extremely glad to hear your remarks upon the subject, especially as you have made this branch of science a part of your amusement, and not without the advantage of anatomical dissections; whereas I have very seldom applied my thoughts to the former, and never had an opportunity of being present at the latter.

Let me also observe, that our very situation favours, or rather suggests, such a topic of conversation. All the fine prospects of the country are excluded. We have scarce anything left but ourselves to contemplate. And shall this be the only theme we neglect !

De Natura Deorum.

Ther. It is somewhat preposterous, I must confess, to pry into the archives of colleges, to ransack the cabinets of the virtuosi, to carry our search through the whole compass of external nature, and at the same time overlook the far more surprising curiosities which abound in the composition of our own bodies. Since you insist upon it, my observations, crude and extemporaneous as they are, shall submit themselves to your judgment, provided you will be content to receive only a few of the outlines and nothing like a finished draught.

Asp. Let me just hint, that the more circumstantial your account is, so much the more welcome will it be to your friend, and so much the more honourable to our common Creator. For I really think, that Galen's declaration upon this head is perfectly just: which I have read in my favourite commentator Beza, and which speaks to the following effect* :- -"Such treatises as display the excellencies of the great Creator, compose one of the noblest and most acceptable hymns. To acquaint ourselves with his sublime perfections, and point out to others his infinite power, his unerring wisdom, and his boundless benignity; this is a more substantial act of devotion than to slay hecatombs of victims at his altar, or kindle mountains of spices into incense."-Theron, after pausing a few minutes, thus resumed the dis

course.

Ther. When some master-builder undertakes to erect a magnificent edifice, he begins with the less decorated but more solid parts-those which are to support, or those which are to contain the rest. This order, if you please, we will follow in considering "the earthly house of our tabernacle," 2 Cor. v. 1. First, you have a system of bones cast into a variety of moulds, enlarged or contracted into a variety of sizes. All strong, that they may commodiously bear up the fleshy machine; yet light, that they may not depress the animal with an encumbering load. Bored with an internal cavity to contain the moistening marrow, and perforated with exceedingly fine ducts to admit the nourishing vessels. Insensible themselves, they are covered with a membranet of exquisite sensibility, which warns them of the approach, and secures them from the annoyance, of any injurious friction; and at the same time preserves the muscular parts from being fretted in their action by the hard and rough substance of the bones. Their figures are always most precisely fitted to their uses. They are generally larger at the extremities than in the middle, that they may be joined more firmly, and not so easily dislocated. The manner of their articulation is truly admirable, and remarkably various; yet never varied without demonstrating some wise design, and answering some valuable end. Frequently, when two are united, the one is nicely rounded and capped with a smooth substance; the other is scooped into a hollow of the same dimensions, to receive the polished knob; and both are Jabricated with an unctuous fluid, to yield the readiest rotation in the socket. The feet compose the firmest and neatest pedestal, infinitely beyond all that statuary and architecture can accomplish; capable of altering its form, and extending its size, as different circumstances require. Besides performing the office of a pedestal, they contain a set of the nicest springs, which help to place the body in a variety of graceful attitudes, and qualify it for a multiplicity of advantageous motions. The undermost part of the heel, and the extremity of the sole, are shod with a tough, insensible, sinewy substance. + The periosteum.

Vide Bez. Annot. ad Rom. i. 20.