ing the present life. After he has brought all this fairly to account, and thence formed his judgment of moral duty, he will perceive the immense disparity that exists between that character which will gain the full approbation of men in general, and the true perfection of our nature.

Here the great expedience, not to say the necessity, of retirement, can hardly be disputed, when it is confidered how low the standard of virtue is generally fixed in the world, and how difficult it is to rise above the sentiments of those with whom we hold constant intercourse. And this difficulty is not a little increased, when these sentiments are found embodied and exhibited in living examples, which is by no means unusual in the case before us. There is scarce any circle that does not boast a few distinguished individuals, who, though their virtue is composed of merely human qualities, and is destitue of every ingredient of true piety, are looked up to by all around them as patterns of moral excellence. Hence to form an idea of per

fection which throws disgrace on these ap. plauded models, and to preserve this idea unimpaired, under the daily corrupting influence of public opinion, evidently requires no ordinary effort, and argues a mind of more intellectual and moral vigour and elevation, than is easily to be met with in any rank of society.

Nor is it less expedient to secure certain intervals of solitude, in order to determine our degree of actual conformity to the rule of righteousness when known, than to ascertain the rule itself. In the hurry of life, the state of the heart is seldom closely examined; and the external conduct is easily substituted for the interior disposition. We suppose ourselves to have fulfilled the first great commandment, at least in substance, provided we express in our general conduct a decent reverence to the divine name and worship; and that we have accomplished the second, if we behave towards our fellow-creatures with strict justice, uniform kindness, and occasional libe rality. We may indeed equally impose

upon ourselves in a desert; but I appre hend not in general with the same facility. When a man is left to his own reflections, and is deprived of the countenance and approbation of those around him, his solitary opinion is less able to resist the convictions of truth, he is more at liberty to search into the motives and principles of his conduct, and his conscience is more likely to speak home to the reality of his situation. How many are there who are borne up in a conceit of their superior vir→ tue, by the judgments or flatteries of the world, who would soon be reduced to a mortifying sense of their true character, if this fantastic support was happily withdrawn from them!

From these considerations it may sufficiently appear, how much it concerns him who would establish in his mind a just conception of man as he existed in his original innocence, and of the sad reverse he has suffered, to secure a retreat from the bustle of the world, whose erroneous sentiments, and seducing examples, so few are able to resist, while placed within the sphere of

their immediate influence. Nor ought a deviation from ordinary life, in pursuit of such an object, to incur censure while it is allowed to studies of far less importance or dignity. While the literary man is permitted to separate himself from society, and to devote his days and nights to disquisitions concerning ancient laws and manners, which bear little relation to us in the present circumstances of the world, it would seem unjust not to grant the same privilege to the Christian moralist, who would carry his researches up to the primitive state of human nature, from which our departure is the source of all the evils that we either feel now, or that we fear hereafter. Or while the virtuoso is allowed to wander to Rome or Athens, that, by a critical survey of the noble remains of ancient architecture he there discovers, he may be enabled to trace out the original models, we cannot fairly deny to the Christian philosopher an occasional retreat into shades and solitude, in order to look narrowly into himself, and to trace out, in the

ruins he finds there, the perfect model of our nature as it came first from the hands of the Creator, and thence to ascertain its present state of degeneracy.

While imperfect men look only to an imperfect standard, they will easily sit down contented with themselves; but it is impossible for him, who is made duly sensible of the state of our nature in its origin, to contemplate his present degraded condition without much self-dissatisfaction and an awakening apprehension of danger; and under this impression he will be forward to lend his most serious attention, while we proceed, in the second place, to enquire,

II. In what degree, according to the constitution of the gospel, we must be restored to a conformity with the violated law of our creation, in order to our present peace and final happiness; and in what manner it is most usual for men to deceive themselves upon this subject.