criticism and are under the tyran- More heights before him than he left ny of a name. So, &c. behind; An author, who picks up a jewel from the midst of rubbish polishes it, and places it in a situation in which it borrows lustre from the adjacent parts, and bestows lustre in return-such an author deserves every praise but that of originality. He is a Spartan; he steals so well that he is pardoned for the crime. say that there is no sincerity where is some stentation; but we may confidently affirm that ostentation is no part of sincerity. Some people are always condemning themselves, complaining of their wicked hearts; and this is their religion. The answer of Whitefield to such a person, on a certain occasion, was admirable. A man, reputedly very pious, perhaps really so, was once complaining to him of his own heart. What a sinner I am -how little do I profit under preaching-at what distance do I live from God! &c. Whitefield heard him for a while and then replied. My dear sir, do you really believe all this? for if you do, you had much better confess it to God, than display it to me. KNOWLEDGE OF THE WORLD. It is a great mistake to suppose that those men are the most distinguished for an extensive knowledge of mankind, who have thought the worst of their species. What has generally been called a knowledge of the world has been an acquaintance with a very small part of it. When Sir Robert Walpole declared that every man could be bribed, only make the temptation large enough, he undoubtedly spoke from the views of human nature which he had taken. But what was that part of human nature which came under his view? The fry of a court, the most venal of mankind, ready to nibble at any bait which corruption might throw out. Surely these were not specimens of sober tradesmen, honest merchants, and still less, of humble Christians. The Duke de Rochefoucault was not acquainted with human nature. He knew Paris exactly; but Paris (thank heaven) is not all the world. Lord Chesterfield knew not human nature; in painting mankind he saw nothing but his own frivolous heart. Human nature, though en SLANDER. The old writers show no mercy to the envious man and to the slanderer. Every college boy, who has read Dalzel's book, remembers, probably, the dying wretch who was filled with envy because he saw his fellow-criminal crucified on a better cross than his own. This is extravagant. Nor less extravagant are the following lines, on one who is represented as having so much more poison than the most poisonous serpent, that the bite of the serpent was fatal to the reptile, not to the man. The thought is bitter enough. A slanderer felt an adder bite his side: What followed from the bite? the serpent died. AFFLICTIONS. Afflictions seldom benefit men, during the agonies of the first onset. The mind is in a whirlwind, and the whisperings of truth and consolation cannot then be heard. It is said that oil poured upon the water will smooth the breakers of the sea. But in a storm the pilot boat cannot launch forth to bear that oil. Thus it is with the mind in affliction; it is for a time in too turbulent a state to suffer the oil of consolation to enter it. The time for moral help is when the mental waves are beginning to abate, and have not yet ceased to roll. It is the hour Of sorrow's softness, and religion's pow er. THE LOVE OF GOD Is the moving principle of Christianity; but is in the present day, I fear, much misunderstood. It is too often considered as an emotion which terminates in itself. The love of God may be considered as a principle, operating in two ways. It may be regarded as a glow of sentiment, a gush of feeling, which leads the possessor to meditate on the divine excellencies, and lose himself in secret communion with the Deity. When he walks in the field; when he meditates at the midnight hour; when he becomes weary of the world, and pants for translation to the pleasures and employments of heaven; a good man is regarded as under the influence of the love of God. A complete idea of this kind of love may he gotten from Augustine's Confessions, from a host of diaries, which, with more or less judgment, have been poured upon the world. This love may be called contemplative love. It is a passive feeling; it operates most powerfully when a man is most abstracted from the world. But there is another species of divine love, a principle, which though far less glowing, touches and controls all the springs of a good man's conduct. A person feels a deep conviction that the will of God is the rule of his duty; and he resolves in every instance to conform to this will. He carries this determination into the busy scenes of life; and exercises much self-denial in order to obey the commands of God. In every question of duty you see this is his rule of action. This may be called active love; it is a very latent principle, considered in itself; but it is very powerful, considered as a quality of other actions. Now the question is, which of these principles is the most unambiguous fountain of virtue? In which of these regions is fancy most prone to play her illusions and blend her colourings? The former of these principles is so uncertain, that often in sick people, I have seen it confounded with the influence of opium. We may meditate, it is true. Dav.d meditated and glowed; but to prove ourselves Christians, we must act. L'he first of these principles may be right; the last cannot be wrong. For the Christian Spectator. SOLITUDE. A MOUNTAIN lies along the clear cold west, Swept clean by wintry winds, the evening star And yet, mild star, I would not have thee go, for thou doest seem This soothing, wisdom-teaching solitude, Then tarry where thou art, mild star of eve; I to the concert of the blest above So hope deceive me not-and thou,—with all CLIFTON. REVIEWS. Lectures on the Philosophy of the Human Mind. By the late THOMAS BROWN, M. D. Professor of Moral Philosophy in the University of Edinburgh. In three volumes. Andover. 1822. It is our intention in this article to confine our remarks to that part of Dr. Brown's course which relates to the science of Ethics. This is contained in his last volume, and comprises about one fourth part of the system. If an apology be demanded for our selection of a part of the system in distinction from the rest, we have only to say that this is that part which especially claims our notice, as avowed guardians of Christian morality; and that the influence which it is obtaining in forming the sentiments of the thinking classes in the community, and particularly of the young, by the very just celebrity of its author, and the almost unrivalled charms of the work itself, has imposed on us an obligation of expressing our views in regard to it, which it is time that we had discharged. Virtue is an object of such high import, and such universal concern, as to have engaged the earnest inquiries of enlightened men in all periods of the world. Not satisfied with merely establishing rules of moral conduct, they have inquired concerning our obligation to observe those rules. With becoming zeal they have asked, "What is virtue ?" "What is the foundation on which it rests?" "In what consists our obligation to practise it?" These inquiries have been the subject of laborious investigation, and of numerous and conflicting discussions; and, after all, no solution of them has been so com pletely established as to have gained the unhesitating and universal assent of philosophers themselves. On this part of the subject Dr. Brown with evident propriety bestows the first labours of his powerful mind; employing, in the illustration of it and in arguments for the refutation of theories inconsistent with his own, no fewer than ten lectures; and reserving the remaining eighteen for the more practical part of the system. Much perplexity he supposes to have attended inquiries into the theory of morals, from distinctions which are merely verbal. "What is it that constitutes an action vi tuous? What is it which constitutes the moral obligation to perform certain actions: What is it which constitutes the merit of him who performs certain actions? These have been considered questions essentially distinct; and because philosophers have been perplexed in attempting to give different answers to them, and have still thought that different answers were necessary, they have wondered at difficulties which themselves have created, and struggling to discover what could not be discovered, have often, from this very circumstance, been led into a skepticism which otherwise they might have avoided." This difference of phraseology he conceives to be founded chiefly in the difference of time in relation to which an action is contemplated. To be virtuous is to act in this manner: to have merit is to have acred in this manner: and to be under obligation differs only as the action contemplated is future. Accordingly, the answer which he gives to these questions is the same, viz. "that it is impossible for us to consider the action without feeling that, by acting in this way, we should look upon our |