which does not hinder it from demonstrating infinitely more beauty in one part; more force and pathos in another; more true sublimity, and yet simplicity, in all; than the most exquisite productions of human genius in their original dress. It is delivered in a species of writing quite distinct from that of the classics, and more natural. Those justly admired performances shew the highest improvement to which the mind of man can, by its own efforts, ascend. They are perfectly exact and delicate. They are so highly polished and finished, that hardly a single thought or word can be replaced by another, without a sensible loss. But then, with all this, they are really stiff, laboured, low and languid, in comparison of the Scriptures. The art with which they are penned discovers itself, in spite of all their care to conceal it, not only in the texture of the work at large, and the nice adjustment of its matter, but in the choice of every phrase, and the very cadence of every period. It is quite otherwise in the Bible. We have there no appearance of art; no manner of care about minutenesses, about polished words, and prim phrases, and little prettinesses. It does not appear, from any one passage of the whole, that the writer had the least intention to strike the minds of his readers with any thing else than the force of his thoughts, conveyed in a rough and masculine dress. Hence arises this admirable effect, that no part of our attention is impertinently amused with the words, but all given to the sentiment, which goes naked to the heart with an energy not to be resisted. When men speak, they require art and address to give strength and persuasion to what they say. But it is not so with God. He can speak to the mind by spirit and thought alone; and never uses words, but for a memorial of what he says. When he condescends to deliver himself in this human vehicle, he will not vouchsafe to borrow any thing from it, but mere conveyance; nay, he disdains the low assistance of method, because it borders on art. He scatters flowers and fruit with such an unaffected profusion, as sets the art of the gardener in a very contemptible light, on the comparison. Hence it is, that as a garden can please us but for a very little time, whereas the face of nature is ever new and delightful; so the finical performances of writers uninspired, howsoever pleasing they may be at first, soon grow dull

and languid on the taste; while such as God vouchsafes to dictate, not only bear, but improve on, a thousand readings. New sense, new beauty, new force, spring up at every repetition, as if all the sentiments had vegetated since the last. But this is owing to the prodigious depth of what he says, which does not, like the thoughts of men, ostentatiously display all its strength and beauty on the surface, but reserves enough to invite and reward every return of our attention. What other stories affect us like that of Joseph and his brethren? What fables, produced by human wit, strike the mind like the parables of Christ, or like that of Nathan to David? How poor and unaffecting are all the descriptions of God's works in other performances, to those we find in the book of Job? How long and spiritless are all the attempts of other writers to raise our idea of the Divine Majesty, in comparison of those we find in the Psalms, in the prophecies of Isaiah, and in the Apocalypse? How shall we account for it, that all other writers, who made it their sole business to aim at force, at dignity and sublimity, should fall so infinitely short of the Scriptural writers, who certainly aimed at no such thing? If we are men of taste and integrity, we must acknowledge, that, in case God should ever deign to speak to men, we should expect to hear him speak in the language of the Scriptures, artless and simple, like them, in his expressions; sublime and powerful, like them, in his sentiments.

But, again; an author is known by the matter of his performance. We ascribe this performance to the author of 'The Whole Duty of Man,' on account of its piety and good sense; that to Mr. Addison, because its thoughts are more delicate, and its turn more genteel, than those of other writers; and a third to Sir Isaac Newton, for no other reason, than because it shews a reach of thought beyond the extent of all other minds. But, when we come to look into the Seriptures, we discover a scene of instruction, which, if true, is of infinitely higher dignity and use than the matter of all other writings laid together. We there see, in the historical part of it, when and how this world was created; how we were brought into being; how we fell into this state of sin and misery, in which we find ourselves; how God drowned the ancient world for the sins of men, and

preserved a family to repeople it; how he chose out a people from the rest of mankind, and governed them by laws peculiar to themselves, and by a power superior to nature; how he sent his Son into the world to redeem us from sin and misery by his precepts, and his blood. This history, which runs through a space of more than four thousand years, carries on it, as to the characters and actions of men, the evident signs of more truth and impartiality, than are to be met with in any other history. The failings and vices of such as are most highly favoured in it, nay, and even of those who wrote it, are so undisguisedly recorded, that one can hardly help believing some higher hand than their own had the government of their pens, when they were employed in the work. With this chain of history is interwoven a system of religion, uniform throughout as to its object and end; but various as to its outward form, according to the different circumstances under which it was from time to time imparted. The worship of one God; the commemoration of his mercies with gratitude, and of his judgments with fear; the reformation of men's manners; the immortality of their souls; their redemption from the guilt and punishment of sin by the death of Christ; their exemption from everlasting misery, and title to eternal glory; form, as it were, the outlines of this religion. But, in order to give it the greater power over our affections, certain positive institutions are added to it, as the most efficacious engines to work on minds exceedingly addicted by nature to outward and sensible things. And, in order to teach us how infinite justice and infinite mercy, in regard to us, could be reconciled; as well as to shew us by what assistance creatures so enslaved to sin both by nature and habit might be reformed; a personal distinction in the unity of the Divine Nature is discovered, whereby we are given to understand, that there is, in God, a Father, who created and governs us; a Son, who, clothed in human nature, died to redeem us; and a Holy Spirit, who reclaims and sanctifies us. This is the religion revealed in the Old and New Testaments, which, if compared with other religions, is, to common sense and reason, as the sun is to the eye in comparison of the stars. What other religion gives us so just an idea of God, of his unity, or of his attributes? What

other religion shews him so awfully majestic in wisdom, justice, and power; or so infinitely amiable in mercy and goodness, so infinitely condescending, as to participate our nature, to suffer for our sins, and to dwell with us poor unworthy creatures? What other religion teaches us to believe, God is always present with us, knows all things, and forgets nothing? What other religion commands us to cleanse our hearts, and purify our very thoughts, and revenge the injuries of our enemies with benefits and blessings? What other religion proposes motives of sufficient weight to counterbalance the corruptions of nature, the inveteracy of sinful habits, and all those violent or ensnaring temptations wherewith the objects of sense and appetite continually assault us? Does Paganism or Manicheism furnish us with so noble an object of adoration? Does Mahometism teach us so much peace and charity towards men? Does Deism give us so many, or so inducing, reasons for love towards God, or such efficacious helps for the reformation of our manners? No; if God ever gave a religion to mankind, it must be that of the Bible. None other is suitable to the reason, or adequate to the wants, of mankind. Whatever is the force of those reasons which are drawn from the goodness of God, and the exigencies of men, to prove that the means of true religion must have been afforded to the world, it lends all its weight to the Scriptures; for, if they are not the word of God, nor the means of religious information which they suggest, the right means, then are we yet to seek for divine instruction.

Beside affording us this admirable scheme of religion, the Scriptures discover a degree of wisdom infinitely superior to all that can be collected from other writings; and this they so accommodate to all circumstances and cases, that a man, who is but moderately acquainted with them, can hardly ever be at a loss, in any difficulty, for such a rule to act by, as will never expose him to the necessity of repentance. The book of Job, the Proverbs of Solomon, but more especially the preachings of Jesus Christ, teach us such lessons of wisdom and virtue, as are sufficient to put all the philosophy of the world to the blush, and convict it of ignorance and puerility.

Again, there is no state of mind, either culpable or un

comfortable, wherein, if a man applies to the Scriptures, he may not find a remedy against the cause of his complaint, sufficient to bridle a licentious, or console a desponding turn of mind. Is he afflicted? Job will teach him patience and submission. Hath he sinned? David will shew him how to repent, and bewail his fall. Are the enemies of his soul likely to prevail against him? Christ will rouse him to vigilance, and St. Paul will lend him armour of proof. Is he dull and languid in his addresses to God? Let him join in prayer with David, Solomon, Hezekiah, Daniel, and they will bear up his heart with them in strains of devotion so sedately ardent, so humble, and yet so elevated, that, instead of any longer looking on this act of communion with God as a dry disagreeable duty, and preferring every little miserable amusement to it, he will hardly think he lives, but when he prays.

Add to all this, that whereas the mind of man is more apt to be led by precedents than precepts, and is usually too little affected with a naked rule of action, the Scriptures are admirably fitted to his weakness in this respect; for the morality they inculcate is so blended with the history they exhibit, that the reader feels the example, while he sees the rule; and finds his heart animated, as fast as his understanding is enlightened. There is nothing more unaffecting than virtue in the abstract, as it lies formally delineated in a system of ethics. Nor, on the other hand, is there any thing more highly interesting or entertaining than the exemplification of it in the life of a truly religious and good man, with unwearied patience struggling through a thousand difficulties, with fortitude facing the most alarming dangers, with firmness resisting, and at length subduing, the most violent temptations; and, in the end, emerging in a happy and glorious catastrophe. Here is virtue, not in words, but deeds; not tricked out in lifeless definitions, and quaint propositions, but displayed in all its lustre and beauty by facts that invite the imitation of all men in whom the dignity of human nature is not entirely extinct. Now the Scriptures present us with a rich treasure of such examples. Its morality is as glorious in the pactice, as it is perfect in the precept, of those through whom it is delivered. While, by the one, it points out the way to happiness; it