The way of tranfgreffors is hard, as well as foolish and vain. To follow after forbidden objects is far more laborious than to pursue those only that are lawful. It is faid of wisdom, that all her ways are ways of pleafantnefs, that all her paths are paths of peace.

The mind of the youth who is in pursuit of vanities, or of unlawful pleasures, is ever raging, like a tempest. Now up, now down-he knows nothing of true pleasure, nothing of folid peace. The object he defires and purfues fo ardently mocks him again and again. "To-morrow," he fays to himself, "will give me the object of my wishes." To-morrow comes-once more it eludes his grasp. Now he becomes uneafy, then impatient, then fretful, then anxious, and then defperate; now he resolves at all hazards to seize upon the prize-it is his own; but ah! the flowers have faded, the beautiful colours have disappeared; the angel of beauty is transformed into a loathfome object. His eyes are opened; and, alas! too late, disappointed and remorseful, he learns the truth of the maxim, that "it is not all gold that glitters."

Man has a foul of vaft defires;

He burns within with restless fires :
Toff'd to and fro, his paffions fly
From vanity to vanity.

In vain on earth we hope to find
Some folid good to fill the mind;
We try new pleasures, but we feel
The inward thirst and torment still.

So when a raging fever burns,
We fhift from fide to fide by turns;
And 'tis a poor relief we gain,

To change the place but keep the pain.

Great God! fubdue the vicious thirst,
This love to vanity and duft;

Cure the vile fever of the mind,

And feed our fouls with joys refined.

DR. WATTS.

DANGER OF GREATNESS.

The clouds affemble in the blackening weft,
Anon with gloom the fky becomes o'ercaft,
United winds with wide-mouth'd fury roar,
Old ocean, rolling, heaves from fhore to fhore;
With boiling rage the waves begin to rife,
And ruffian billows now affail the fkies;
The hardy forefts, too, affrighted quake,
The hills they tremble, and the mountains shake;
The oak majeftic, towering to the fkies,
Laughs at the whirlwind, and the ftorm defies :
Spreads wide its arms, rejoicing in its pride,
And meets unbending the tornado's tide;
The winds prevail, one loud tremendous blow
The monarch proftrates, and his pride lays low;
While the low reed, in far more humble form,
Unknown to greatnefs, fafe, outlives the ftorm.
THE ftorm rages. The fturdy oak, the growth

1

of centuries, lifts its proud head towering to the heavens; it spreads abroad its ample branches, giving shelter to birds and beasts. For a long time it refifts the fury of the hurricane, but 'tis all in vain : with a mighty crash it is overturned; its very roots are laid bare, its branching honours are brought low; birds, beafts, and creeping reptiles now trample upon its fallen greatness.

But fee: the humble reed, bending to the ftorm, escapes unhurt. Its lowly pofition has preserved it from deftruction; while its mighty neighbour is no more. It still lives, and grows,

and flourishes.

This is an apt emblem of the danger attending upon high stations, and of the security afforded in the less elevated walks of life. It is calculated to damp the ardour of ambition, of, at least, that ambition that seeks to be great only that self may be enriched, or vanity gratified.

This kind of greatnefs is indeed the most dangerous, and the most uncertain. It is fure to be a mark for others, equally afpiring and unprincipled, to fhoot at; while the poffeffor of this greatness, not being protected by the shield of confcious integrity, falls to rife no more, and the flatterers and dependants being no longer able to enrich themselves, unite in trampling under foot the man they formerly delighted to honour.

Love is not an evil of itself, neither is ambition; they may both be expended on worthlefs or finful objects. Let the youth feek out a proper object for the lofty afpirings of the foul;

let him learn to direct them by the providence and word of God. True greatnefs confifts in goodness-in being useful to mankind. Thofe individuals usually called great have been the destroyers, not the benefactors of our race. A private station is as much a post of honour as the moft elevated. Indeed, properly speaking, there are no private ftations; every man is a public man, and equally interefted with others in the welfare and progress of his fellows. The lowly reed is as perfect in its kind as the lofty oak, and anfwers equally the end of its creation.

He is

It is true, however, that the more elevated the station a man holds in fociety, the more refponfibility he is under both to God and man. alfo exposed to more dangers and temptations. Envy, that hates the excellence she cannot reach, will carp at him, and flander shoot her poisoned arrows at him. Happiness feldom dwells with greatnefs, nor is fafety the child of wealth and honours. "But he that humbleth himself-in due time-shall be exalted."

A striking inftance of the danger of greatness may be found in the fall of Cardinal Wolfey. This ambitious man lived in the reign of Henry VIII., king of England. He was that monarch's favourite minifter. He is faid to have been "insatiable in his acquifitions, but still

more

magnificent in his expenses; of great capacity, but ftill more unbounded in enterprise; ambitious of power, but still more ambitious of glory." He fucceeded he was raised to the highest pinnacle;