The atonement, a Redeemer's love has wrought,
Is not for you the righteous need it not.
Seeft thou yon harlot wooing all the meets,
The worn-out nuifance of the public streets,
Herself from morn to night, from night to morn,
Her own abhorrence, and as much your fcorn:
The gracious shower, unlimited and free,
Shall fall on her, when heaven denies it thee.
Of all that wifdom dictates, this the drift,
That man is dead in fin, and life a gift.

Is virtue then, unless of Chriftian growth,
Mere fallacy, or foolishness, or both?
Ten thousand fages loft in endless woe,
For ignorance of what they could not know?
That speech betrays at once a bigot's tongue,
Charge not a God with such outrageous wrong.
Truly not I-the partial light men have,

My creed perfuades me, well-employed, may fave;
While he that fcorns the noon-day beam, perverse,
Shall find the bleffing unimproved a curse.
Let heathen worthies, whofe exalted mind
Left fenfuality and drofs behind,
Poffefs for me their undifputed lot,

And take unenvied the reward they fought.
But ftill in virtue of a Saviour's plea,
Not blind by choice, but destined not to fee.

And is the foul indeed fo loft?-fhe cries, Fallen from her glory and too weak to` rise? Torpid and dull beneath a frozen zone,

Has fhe no fpark that may be deemed her own?
Grant her indebted to what zealots call

Grace undeserved, yet furely not for all-
Some beams of rectitude the yet difplays,
Some love of virtue, and fome power to praise;
Can lift herself above corporeal things,
And, foaring on her own unborrowed wings,
Poffefs herself of all that's good or true,
Affert the fkies, and vindicate her due.
Paft indiferetion is a venial crime,

And if the youth, unmellowed yet by time,.
Bore on his branch luxuriant then and rude
Fruits of a blighted fize, auftere and crude,
Maturer years fhall happier stores produce,
And meliorate the well concocted juice.
Th, confcious of her meritorious zeal,
To juftice fhe may make her bold appeal,
And leave to mercy with a tranquil mind,
The worthlefs and unfruitful of mankind.
Hear then how mercy, flighted and defied,
Retorts the affront againft the crown of pride.
Perifh the virtue, as it ought, abhorred,
And the fool with it, who infults his Lord.

The atonement, a Redeemer's love has wrought,
Is not for you the righteous need it not.
Seeft thou yon harlot wooing all the meets,
The worn-out nuisance of the public streets,
Herfelf from morn to night, from night to morn,
Her own abhorrence, and as much your fcorn:
The gracious fhower, unlimited and free,
Shall fall on her, when heaven denies it thee.
Of all that wifdom dictates, this the drift,
That man is dead in fin, and life a gift.
Is virtue then, unless of Chriftian growth,
Mere fallacy, or foolishness, or both?
Ten thousand fages loft in endless woe,
For ignorance of what they could not know?
That fpeech betrays at once a bigot's tongue,
Charge not a God with such outrageous wrong.
Truly not I-the partial light men have,

My creed perfuades me, well-employed, may fave;
While he that fcorns the noon-day beam, perverse,
Shall find the bleffing unimproved a curse.
Let heathen worthies, whofe exalted mind
Left fenfuality and drofs behind,

Poffefs for me their undifputed lot,

And take unenvied the reward they fought.
But ftill in virtue of a Saviour's plea,
Not blind by choice, but destined not to fee.

Their fortitude and wifdom were a flame
Celestial, though they knew not whence it came,
Derived from the fame fource of light and grace,
That guides the Chriftian in his swifter race;
Their judge was confcience, and her rule their law,
That rule, purfued with reverence and with awe,
Led them, however faltering, faint, and flow,

From what they knew, to what they wished to know.
But let not him that shares a brighter day,
Traduce the fplendour of a noon-tide ray,
Prefer the twilight of a darker time,

And deem his bafe ftupidity no crime;

The wretch, who flights the bounty of the skies,
And finks, while favoured with the means to rise,
Shall find them rated at their full amount,

The good he fcorned all carried to account.
Marshalling all his terrors as he came,
Thunder, and earthquake, and devouring flame,
From Sinai's top Jehovah gave the law,
Life for obedience, death for every flaw.
When the great Sovereign would his will exprefs,
He gives a perfect rule, what can he lefs?
And guards it with a fanction as fevere
As vengeance can inflict, or finners fear:
Elfe his own glorious rights he would difclaim,
And man might fafely trifle with his name.

He bids him glow with unremitting love
To all on earth, and to himself above;

Condemns the injurious deed, the flanderous tongue, The thought that meditates a brother's wrong: Brings not alone the more confpicuous part,

His conduct to the teft, but tries his heart.

རྩྭ

Hark! univerfal nature shook and groaned, "Twas the laft trumpet-fee the Judge enthroned: Rouse all your courage at your utmost need, Now fummon every virtue, ftand and plead. What! filent? Is your boasting heard no more? That felf-renouncing wisdom, learned before, Has shed immortal glories on your brow, That all your virtues cannot purchase now. All joy to the believer! He can speakTrembling yet happy, confident yet meek.

Since the dear hour that brought me to thy foot, And cut up all my follies by the root,

I never trusted in an arm but thine,

Nor hoped, but in thy righteousness divine:
My prayers and alms, imperfect and defiled,
Were but the feeble efforts of a child

However performed, it was their brightest part
That they proceeded from a grateful heart:
Cleansed in thine own all-purifying blood,
Forgive their evil, and accept their good;