children; all masters to their servants; but particularly men of station and rank to their inferiors everywhere around them. Now, a regular habit of attending public worship is a feature in the example of a good man, which has a wider and more beneficial influence than is commonly imagined; gives an impression of weight and dignity to his character, which it would otherwise want; and establishes the opinion, that he is actuated by nobler motives than the desire of popular favour, or any mere worldly consideration.

The lower orders of men, who at one time declaim against the profligacy of their superiors, and, at another, take comfort to themselves, in the midst of their own corruptions, when they see that they are only copying after their betters; these men look up with emotions of awe and reverence to the rich and powerful man who seems to carry the fear of God before his eyes; and, while he walks among them, they almost consider him as a superior being, commissioned by the Most High to regulate their conduct, to curb and restrain their vices, and to encourage their humble virtues. Impressions of this kind seize upon the imaginations of the populace, and have probably no slight influence in forming their manners. If, then, by the plain and easy practice of resorting to the house of God at the times appointed for his worship, a man of rank or fortune may do more good among his dependants, or those inferiors who watch his conduct, than by the profuse distribution of wealth, or even by well-formed schemes for the good and advancement of society, the observance of this practice becomes a most important branch, not only of his

duty to God, but likewise of that which he owes to

man.

These remarks, my brethren, are applicable to all times, but they are, perhaps, peculiarly so to the present age, which, whatever may be its advantages in point of knowledge, of refinement, and of humanity, is certainly far from being eminent for zeal in religion. Many opinions and sentiments which our fathers regarded with reverence, are now too often despised, and many practices which, in their apprehension, were characteristic of virtue and goodness, are now too frequently looked upon as the indications of a weak and superstitious mind. Whatever advances our age has really made, whatever improvements in practice or opinion, no wise man assuredly will undervalue. Our sentiments have, in some respects, become more liberal, our views more enlarged, and our minds have been freed from some unworthy fetters, by which those of our fathers were tied down and enslaved. All this is right: these advantages it is our duty to preserve, and in all respects "so to speak and so to do, as they that shall be judged by the law of liberty."

But let us be very careful lest we ever mistake the spurious offspring of our vanity and self-conceit for the genuine fruits of an improving age; and whilst we condemn the frivolous observances frequent among "those of old time," let us be cautious lest we shut our eyes to that lustre of true religion and piety that so often shed a glory around their steps, which all our boasted knowledge and improvements seek to confer upon us in vain. Let us be cautious lest we ever despise that simple and

unassuming wisdom which led them to yield a ready and unforced obedience to every sacred institution, both as the mean of nurturing in their own bosoms the secret seeds of faith and virtue, and for the purpose of drawing more closely those unseen cords, which bind together in beautiful order the jarring elements of human society.

SERMON XXVI.

ON YOUTHFUL PIETY.

ECCLESIASTES, xii. 1.

"Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youth; while the evil days come not, nor the years draw nigh, when thou shalt say, I have no I have no pleasure in them.”

THE young, my brethren, are too apt to consider religion as a dark and gloomy object. It seems to them calculated to check the sprightliness of their spirits, and to thwart the pursuit of their pleasures. If they have been educated by pious parents, they will, indeed, regard it with reverence and awe; but still it may seem to them a bondage from which they will sometimes long to become free. The house of God is apt to appear to them cheerless and melancholy, and their thoughts will often wander from prayers and thanksgivings to the enticing scenes of gaiety and joy. This is a disposition inherent probably in most young minds, and which, therefore, is to be treated with some indulgence. Yet, in this disposition, we may trace the first rise of irreligion in the heart; we may see those corrupted springs from which the waters of bitterness afterwards flow; and in that distaste to the thoughts of

religion as inconsistent with the pleasures of youth, we shall discover the root of infidelity in some minds, and, in others, of that eager following after vain enjoyments, which finally blots out every serious thought.

In order, therefore, to impress upon the minds of the young the belief that there is nothing severe in the advice of the wise man which I have chosen for my text, I shall endeavour to prove, first, that religion is so far from checking, that it will add a relish to every innocent pleasure which is natural to the season of youth; and, in the next place, to show that youth is the season in which religion and pleasure may be most easily made to unite," while the evil days come not, nor the years draw nigh, when thou shalt say, I have no pleasure in them."

Let us then consider the season of youth, and the innocent pleasures which it admits; that season when our limbs are strong; when our hearts are light; when our hopes are warm; and when we begin to run the race of life with alacrity and joy. Care has not yet sate down upon our minds; we have not yet experienced the vanity of the world, nor fallen a prey to discontent and repining. Every hour seems to start some new enjoyment, something that we have not yet known, which may add new vigour to our spirits, and refresh our hopes. Life does not yet appear the same unvaried circle of dull employment, or of insipid amusement. All is smiling and delightful; for the evil days have not yet come, nor the years drawn nigh, in which we shall say we have no pleasure in them. Now, my brethren, it would indeed be a harsh design, if religion advanced to throw a cloud over this pleasing period; if it hastened