that goodness has not a moral tendency to the security and the prosperity of greatness. So far from it, indeed, that the almost universal surprise and indignation which the oppression of virtue in any station occasions, is a testimony that such an event is not only very detestable, but very rare.

If the lot of the righteous is fallen in the lower sphere of life, there is yet little probability that he should either be destitute himself, or that his children should beg their bread. His attention to his duty will make him temperate and industrious, and temperance and industry are the parents of health and plenty.

The joy of the righteous continueth, but the hope of the wicked shall be destroyed.

In this changeable and uncertain state of life, where every scheme of happiness we can form is always liable to be broken; where chance or error may destroy the laboured effects of prudence and industry; where the faculties of sense and health are exposed to ruin from the slightest accident; certainly the only reasonable and satisfactory means of happiness must be those that are founded on the hopes of piety.

A few hours, or a few days of pain would be tolerable, were we supported by the ex

pectation of a certain relief. Such always is the condition of the righteous: whether he suffers the common or the extraordinary evils of life, they are alleviated by the prospect of a certain and a happy change; a change which shall exempt him from misery for ever; and, from those pains and sorrows, which await the condition of mortality, shall remove him to the regions of everlasting rest -to dwellings where the voice of joy is heard perpetually-where the benevolent Father of nature has prepared eternal happiness for the righteous, and where he, who suffered the afflictions of mortal evil, shall, with that affection peculiar to his character, wipe off all tears from all eyes, and bid sorrow and mourning flee

away.

Deprived of these hopes, the great support of the righteous, where shall the ungodly and the sinner appear? For it is asserted (and we shall find the assertion is not vain) that his hope shall be destroyed.

Those anxieties and distresses, which either befal him in the common course of things, or have been immediately brought upon him by his own follies and vices, will bear upon him with all their force. That great relief of human misery, the prospect of future happiness, he is entirely deprived of. As his only

agreeable expectations are confined to this life, he can have nothing to set against its common evils; and they must necessarily wound him in his tenderest attachments.

But when extraordinary calamities attack him; when he finds himself involved in hopeless misfortunes; what can he do but give himself up to unavailing complaint, and mourn over the prospect of irremediable misery?

Lo! this is the man that took not God for his trust; but trusted in the multitude of his riches, and strengthened himself in his ungodliness.

The evangelical Prophet compares the wicked to the troubled sea, which cannot rest; whose waters cast forth mire and dirt. But the fruits of righteousness, we are told by the apostle, are peace and joy in believing.

The aptness and propriety of the Prophet's comparison are extremely obvious. If we attend to the character and conduct of the wicked, we shall find them inconsistent, uneasy, and tumultuous. The hopes that are founded merely on the things of this world most frequently terminate in disappointment: the pursuits of vice are attended with pain and disgust: irregular appetites destroy the health of the body; and ungoverned passions banish peace from the mind. How dreadful

then must be the condition of that wretch, whose hopes are fruitless, whose pursuits are painful, whose health is destroyed, and whose peace is banished!

He, whose conduct cannot claim the testi

mony of reason, if he looks back upon his past life, must turn from it, dissatisfied with a barren, or disgusted with a reproachful scene. If he looks forward to the future, he is presented with a prospect still more disagreeable; a prospect which can never be looked upon with indifference by him who has secured no interest in the allotments of eternity.

These reflections are sufficient to embitter even the moments of pleasure; but they will make their approach at a time when there is nothing to oppose or overbear them-in the hour of solitude and silence! Shall the wicked then find rest? Shall he stifle the dictates of conscience, when every passion is languid and uninflamed? Or shall he triumph over reason by an affected insensibility? Alas! in vain! In vain would he attempt to prove that remorse and misery are not the portion of guilt.

But the fruits of righteousness, we are told by the apostle, are peace and joy in believing.

How opposite! How unlike is the life of the righteous to that of the wicked! A consistency of sentiment, and an evenness of mind, discover themselves in all the actions of a good man, and peace and tranquillity attend him in every scene of life. What pleasure can be equal to that which his reflections afford him, when a life of consistent virtue presents itself to his view! But when he looks forward to his future state, he then reaps that peace and joy in believing, which the apostle declares to be the fruits of his righteousness.

He, who has a reasonable prospect of an interest with the supreme Being, must surely conceive the most exalted ines. When he contemplates the glorious attributes of his Maker and Redeemer, his transcendent goodness, his unbounded power, he may justly form the highest expectations of that inheritance which shall be the portion of the just. Hence the voice of joy is heard in his dwelling's.

From what has been observed, it may be justly concluded how much superior the pleasures of religion are to all worldly enjoyments, since those can make even pain and calamity tolerable-how much preferable the life of a good man is, even in this world, to