separating accidents from bodies, may the plainlier appear, let us examine a little what the meaning of the word 'accident' is. Accident then does not signify a being distinct from body or matter, but is only a word, whereby we express the several ways we consider of what is in a body or matter that is before us. For example: if we perceive a body to have length, then we consider of that length as an accident' of that body; and when we perceive a body to have a smell, or taste, then we consider of that smell and that taste as 'accidents' of that body. But in none of these considerations we mean, that any thing can have length, or smell, or taste, but what really is body; and when any thing, that had a smell or taste, has left off to have a smell or taste, is no more in it. So that, upon an examination of the whole matter, I am apt to believe, that there can be naturally no change of accidents,' but where there is a real change of bodies.

But to proceed a little farther, the question being, whether it be more probable that the world or that God Almighty has been from all eternity; I think I may adventure to affirm, that of two propositions, the least probable is that, which comes nearest to a contradiction. Now nothing can come nearer to a contradiction than eternity, or abiding the same for ever, and a continued changing or not abiding the same one moment. And therefore I conclude, it is less probable that this changeable world should have been from all eternity, than that some other being of more excellence and greater perfection should be so, whose very nature is incapable of change.

'That being, of more excellence and greater per

fection, I call God; and those, who out of a foolish aversion they have for the name of God, will call it

Nature,' do not in any kind differ from this notion of that Being, but only change it's name, and rather show they have a vain mistaken ambition of being thought Atheists, than that they have any reason strong enough to convince them to be so.

If then it be probable that there is a God, and that this God will reward and punish us hereafter for all the good and ill things we act in this life, it does highly concern every man to examine seriously, which is the best way of worshipping and serving this God; that is, which is the best religion..

Now if it be probable, that the instinct which we have within us of a Deity be akin to the nature of God, that religion is probably the best, whose doctrine does most recommend to us those things, which by that instinct we are prompted to believe the virtues and good qualities. And that, I think, without exceeding the bounds of modesty, I may take upon me to affirm, is the Christian religion.

And for the same reason it does also follow, that the religion among Christians, which does most recommend to us virtue and a good life, is in all probability the best religion.

And here I must leave every man to take pains, in seeking out and choosing for himself; he only being answerable to God Almighty for his own soul.

'I began this discourse, as if I had to do with those who have no religion at all; and now, addressing myself to Christians, I hope they will not be offended at me, for ending it with the words of our Saviour:

"Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and you shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you." I shall beg leave farther only to propose a few questions to all those, in general, who are pleased to call themselves Christians.

First, whether there be any thing more directly opposite to the doctrine and practice of Jesus Christ, than to use any kind of force upon men in matters of religion; and consequently, whether all those that practise it (let them be of what church, or sect, they please) ought not justly to be called Antichristians?

• Secondly, whether there can be any thing more unmanly, more barbarous, or more ridiculous, than to go about to convince a man's judgment by any thing but by reason? It is so ridiculous, that boys at school are whipped for it; who, instead of answering an argument with reason, are loggerheads enough to go to cuffs.

"And, thirdly, whether the practice of it has not always been ruinous and destructive to those countries where it has been used, either in monarchies or commonwealths? And whether the contrary practice has not always been successful to those countries where it has been used, either in monarchies or commonwealths?

"I shall conclude with giving them this friendly advice: if they would be thought men of reason, or of a good conscience, let them endeavour by their good counsel and good example to persuade others to lead such lives as may save their souls: and not be perpetually quarrelling amongst themselves, and cutting one another's throats, about those things, which they all agree are not absolutely necessary to salvation?

A Pindaric Poem on the Death of Lord Fairfax, Father to the Duchess of Buckingham.

BY GEORGE, LATE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM.

UNDER this stone does lie

One born for victory;

I.

Fairfax the valiant, and the only He,

Who ere for that alone a conqueror would be.
Both sexes' virtues were in him combined;
He had the fierceness of the manliest mind,
And yet the meekness too of woman-kind:
He never knew what envy was, nor hate;

His soul was fill'd with truth and honesty,
And with another thing quite out of date, call'd modesty.
II.

He ne'er seem'd impudent, but in the place

Where impudence itself dares seldom show it's face: Had any strangers spied him in the room

With some of those he had overcome,

And had not heard their talk, but only seen

Their gesture and their mein,

They would have sworn he had the vanquish'd been;
For as they bragg'd and dreadful would appear,
While they their own ill luck in war repeated,
His modesty still made him blush, to hear
How often he had them defeated.

IV.

When all the nation he had won,

And with expense of blood had bought
Store great enough he thought

Of glory and renown,

He then his arms laid down,

With just as little pride

As if he had been of his enemies' side;
Or one of them could do that were undone.
He neither wealth, nor places sought;
He never for himself, but others fought:
He was content to know

(For he had found it so)

That when he pleased to conquer, he was able,
And left the spoil and plunder to the rabble.
He might have been a king,

But that he understood,

How much it was a meaner thing

To be unjustly great than honourably good.

V.

This from the world did admiration draw,
And from his friends both love and awe,
Remembering what he did in fight before:
And his foes loved him too,

As they were bound to do,

Because he was resolved to fight no more.

So bless'd by all, he died; but far more bless'd were we,
If we were sure to live, till we could see

A man as great in war, as just in peace as he.

The Lost Mistress, a Complaint against the Countess of BY THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM, in the Year 1675, June 12th. "FORSAKEN Strephon in a lonesome glade,

By nature for despairing sorrows made,
Beneath a blasted oak had laid him down;
By lightning that, as he by love o'erthrown.
Upon the mossy root he lean'd his head,
While at his feet a murmuring current led
Her streams, that sympathised with his sad moans;
The neighbouring echoes answer'd all his groans.