it,—and that is, that the power of scientific benevolence is far greater than that of all others, to the welfare of society. The benevolence of the great, or the opulent, however eminent it may be, perishes with themselves. The benevolence even of sovereigns is limited to the narrow boundary of human life; and not unfrequently is succeeded by different and discordant counsels. But the benevolence of knowledge is as extensive as the race of man, and as permanent as the existence of society. He, in whatever situation he may be, who, in the study of science, has discovered a new means of alleviating pain, or of remedying disease; who has described a wiser method of preventing poverty, or of shielding misfortune; who has suggested additional means of increasing or improving the beneficent productions of nature, has left a memorial of himself which can never be forgotten; which will communicate happiness to ages yet unborn; and which, in the emphatic language of scripture, renders him a "fellowworker" with God himself in the improvement of his creation.

The third great end of all knowledge is the improvement and exaltation of our own minds. It was the voice of the apostle, "What manner of men ought ye to be, to whom the truths of the Gospel have come?" It is the voice of nature also, "What manner of men ought ye to be, to whom the treasures of wisdom are opened?" Of all the spectacles, indeed, which life can offer us, there is none more painful, or unnatural, than that of the union of vice with knowledge. It counteracts the great designs of God in the distri

bution of wisdom; and it assimilates men, not to the usual characters of human frailty, but to those dark and malignant spirits who fell from heaven, and who excel in knowledge only that they may employ it in malevolence. To the wise and virtuous man, on the contrary, to him whose moral attain ments have kept pace with his intellectual, and who has employed the great talent with which he is entrusted to the glory of God and to the good of humanity, are presented the sublimest prospects that mortality can know. "In my father's house," says our Saviour, 66 are many mansions;" mansions, we may dare to interpret, fitted to the different powers that life has acquired, and to the uses to which they have been applied. Of that great scene, indeed, which awaits all, whether ignorant or wise, it becomes us to think with reverential awe. Yet we know "that it will then be well with the good, though it will not be well with the wicked;" and we are led, by an instinctive anticipation, to suppose that they who here excelled in wisdom and benevolence will be rewarded with higher objects, upon which they may be employed, and admitted into nearer prospects of the government of Eternal Wisdom. "In his light they shall see light." "They shall see him, not as through a glass, darkly; but as he is. They shall know, even as they themselves are known."

ALISON.

THE ADVANTAGE TO YOUTH FROM THE SOCIETY OF OLD AGE.

No society can be more beneficial to the young than occasional intercourse with those whom length of days hath taught wisdom, and whose comforts are derived chiefly from reason and reflection, instead of appetite and passion. Were there, indeed, no other motives to enforce it, the pleasure arising from variety would be sufficient. Unvaried gratification soon becomes tiresome and insipid; if, therefore, we wish to cultivate true happiness, we must diversify even the rational enjoyments of life. None but the morose would debar youth from pleasure, provided it be neither vicious nor degrading; but to retire from the scenes of festivity and joy, and anticipate the benefit of experience from the admonitions of the aged, is not only the way to enlarge the understanding and fortify the heart, but the best means of rendering the return of other pleasures innocent and delightful.

By thus furnishing the mind with various powers of enjoyment, it is prevented also from being lost in sensuality, or enslaved to the idle gratifications of vanity and pride. Taught to watch for ourselves, from the strange vicissitudes that have befallen others, we first submit to the duty, and then enjoy the benefit of thought and meditation. When the pleasures of the world are interrupted, or withdrawn, which must often be the case, we can retire without regret from what delighted the eye, or charmed the ear, and

derive comforts from a purer source; comforts that are independent of others, and that accompany us in solitude and silence, in the season of calamity, and at the hour of death. To acquire discipline over the mind, with which so many blessings are connected, nothing can be more effectual than frequent intercourse with the aged.

Many young persons, I know, are ready to allege their gravity and moroseness, their indifference to amusements, or their condemnation of pleasure, as bars to this desirable society. But consider; it is not an accession of spirits and vivacity that you want; your foolish confidence and blind credulity need not be increased; and surely the ardour of your passions and desires is already sufficiently dangerous. These require not to be inflamed, but controlled; and we wish you to frequent the company of the aged for what you chiefly want, and they are particularly qualified to bestow ;-habits of thought and reflection, sobriety of sentiment, the warnings of experience, and the great duty of guarding against the temptation of the world.

But you must not expect at once the beauties of the spring and the fruits of autumn; you must not be disappointed, if you do not find the wisdom of age enlivened by the gay hopes and boundless confidence of youth; nor must you regret that the exercise of the more amiable virtue is un attended with the raptures of passion, or the endearments of sensibility. That would be as preposterous as to look for roses in December, or to expect that the setting sun should shine with the fervid splendour of noon.

Besides the gradual abatement of appetite and passion, the apathy which satiety or frequent repetition produces, and not to mention the many infirmities of the aged, there are other causes to render them, what we might call, morose, suspicious, and severe. They have seen and are assured of the folly and the danger which attend the pleasures of the world; they have often grieved, and, perhaps, suffered for the baseness and depravity of men; they have often chased the phantoms of hope, till they have vanished into air, and when other illusions supplied their place, they have grasped at happiness, perhaps, but embraced misery. Can you wonder then that prudence should sometimes teach them to appre hend evil, where you see nothing but good? And that their expectations should be moderate, their wishes sober, and their passions subdued?

HEWLETT.

THE MERE PROFESSION OF CHRISTIANITY NOT SUFFICIENT.

THE mere profession of the Gospel, which consists in outward conformity, in the indefinite assent of the understanding, will but aggravate their guilt. Christianity is a practical principle displaying itself in love and obedience to God, in active exertion for the service of man, in constant efforts after inward piety, and personal and progressive holiness. Any thing short of this is not the religion which Christ came from heaven to teach, nor will it carry us safely thither.