there are, infatuated men, who seek for distinction in unnatural efforts to degrade their species-who found a title to respect, upon discoveries which link them in destiny to the brutes, who glory in their shame. Nothing in the majesty of virtue rebukes them, nothing in the simplicity of truth allures them, nothing in the terrors of the Almighty, alarms them. With ruthless violence and parricidal zeal, they attack whatever is venerable, sacred, august, and true. The sublimest doctrines of religion, the dread retributions of eternity, and the name and perfections of Him who sits upon the circle of the earth, and the inhabitants thereof are as grasshoppers, before whom the nations are counted as the small dust of the balance, are treated as materials to minister to vanity. At one time, under the pretext of exalting natural religion, the mysteries of the cross are disregarded, and reason is professedly exalted only that grace may be really despised. At another time, the distinctions of truth and falsehood are involved in confusion, and universal

skepticism made the touchstone of sound philosophy. And truth, and duty, and religion, disappear in the darkness. The scene changes, and we behold open apologists for Atheism, who seek to gain a name in the earth by unblushingly proclaiming that they can detect no traces of wisdom in the fabric of the world, no tokens of goodness in the conduct of Providence; whose deity is chance, whose devotion is sensuality, whose hope is extinction. But as these gross forms of impiety and absurdity soon excited too much disgust to flatter the vanity of their authors, the infamous odour they emitted rebuking the inspection of curiosity, this miserable ambition of distinction was compelled to resort to decency, and assuming the air of profound speculation, covered its enormities under the refinements of a philosophy, in which names, that are dear to the heart, the names of God, of virtue, and religion, are retained, but the things themselves are exploded. This system is exactly adapted to the ruling passion of the vain. Obscurity is its element, and as

objects look larger in a mist, the reputation of profound sagacity and wisdom, may be cheaply purchased by substituting mystery for sense, and dreams for thought, by drinking inspiration from the clouds, and clothing oracular responses in a jargon as dark and unintelligible as the hieroglyphics of those great exemplars of imposture, the priesthood of Egypt. Guard, my young friends, against vanity. Never let it be a question whether this, or that opinion, shall attract attention to your persons. Look only for evidence-follow the light—and be content with the reflection that you have deserved, whether you have gained or not, the approbation of your fellows. Wisdom will eventually be justified of all her children. The triumphs of vanity are short--those of truth everlasting.

Closely connected with vanity is the irregular influence of the sense of shame, in prompting us to shrink from opinions which may expose us to ridicule. False shame, it is obvious, however, is not so fatal to the interests of truth, as vanity; since, content with

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suppressing unpopular convictions, it makes no excursions into the fields of error. bitious of attracting observation, it meditates no monument of glory. It is not obscurity, but contempt, that excites its apprehensions. The sense of shame, as a subsidiary sanction of virtue and propriety, is an important, perhaps an indispensable element, in the economy of human nature. It is a protection from what is little in principle, and mean in conduct. But to exalt the sense of the ridiculous into a criterion of truth, to make it the guide of reason in the pursuits of philosophy, is to destroy the just subordination of impulses and passions to the dictates of the understanding. Our emotions depend, not upon the essential qualities of the objects that excite them, but upon the representations that are made to the mind. The eye affects the heart-the aspects, or lights, in which things are contemplated, determine the character of the feelings they produce. If, then, virtue and truth are capable of being distorted by the fancy, and presented under false appear

ances, they are capable of being made the occasions of emotions foreign to their nature. It may, indeed, be conceded that the sense of ridicule is an instinct of nature, and that its appropriate qualities are neither truth, virtue, nor goodness, distinctively as such; but as instances of virtue can be misrepresented to the moral sense, and receive the censure which is due to vice, so truth can be covered in the disguise of falsehood, and provoke the laughter which is due to folly. The intrinsic dignity and importance of an object are no exemption from the shafts of raillery. The noblest painting may be seen in a false light. The history of infidelity is fraught with melancholy proof, that no subjects are too sublime for levity, too sacred for caricature, or too solemn for a jest. Could religion always be presented in its true colours-and this is the truth which it is most important to guard -it would have nothing to fear from the power of ridicule. But when piety is denounced as superstition, humility reproached as meanness, faith derided as enthusiasm, firm