Had I fabricated this language for infidelity with the purpose of stamping greater detestation upon its audacity, I had råther bear the blame of having overcharged the character, than to be able (as I now am) to point out a recent publication, which openly avows this shameless do&rine : But as I do not wish to help any anonymous blasphemer into notice, let the toleration of the times be his shelter, and their contempt his answer! In the mean time I will take leave to oppose to it a short passage from a tract, lately translated into English, in.' .titled Philosophical and Critical Enquiries concerning Christianity, by Mr. Bonnet of Geneva ; a work well deserving an attentive perusal.

Here I invite that reader, who can elevate his mind to the contemplation of the ways of Providence, to meditate with me on the admirable methods of divine wisdom in the establishment of Christianity; a religion, the univerfality of which was to comprehend all ages, all places, nations, ranks, and situations in life; a religion, which made no distinction between the crowned head and that of the lowest subject; formed 10 disengage the heart from terref

trial things, to ennoble, to refine, to sublime the thoughts and affections of man; to render him conscious of the dignity of his nature, the importance of his end, to carry his hopes even to eternity, and thus asociate him with superior intelligences; a religion, which gave every thing 10 the spirit and nothing to the flesh; which called its disciples to the greatest sacrifices, because men who are taught to fear God alone, can undergo the feverest trials; a religion in Short (to conclude my weak conceptions on so sublime a subjeet) which was the perfection or completion of natural law, the science of the truly wise, the refuge of the humble, the consolation of the wretched; so majestic in its fimplicity, so sublime in its doĉtrine, so great in its object, so astonishing in its effects.- I have endeavoured (says this excellent author in his conclusions) to explore the inmost receses of my heart, and having discovered no secret motive there, which should induce me to reject a religion so well calculated to supply the defeats of my reafon, to comfort me under affliction and to advance the perfection of my nature, I receive this religion as the greatest blessing Heaven in its goodness could confer upon mankind; and I Should Aill receive it with gratitude, were I to

confider conhder it only as the very best and most perfeet System of practical philosophy.


That man, hurried away by the impetuosity of his passions, is capable of strange and monstrous irregularities I am not to learn ; even vanity and the mean ambition of being eccentric

may draw out very wild expressions from him in his unguarded hours; but that any creature should be deliberately blasphemous, and reason himself (if I may so express it) into irrationality, surpasses my conception, and is a species of desperation for which I have no name.

If the voice of universal nature, the experience of all ages, the light of reason and the immediate evidence of my senses cannot awaken me to a dependence upon my God, a reverence for his religion and an humble opinion of myself, what a loft creature

am I!

Where can we meet a more touching description of God's omnipresence and providence than in the 139th psalm? and how can I better conclude this paper than by the following humble attempt at a translation of


that most beautiful address to the Creator of mankind.


O Lord, who by thy mighty power
Hast search'd me out in every part,
Thou know'st each thought at every hour,
Or e'er it rises to my heart.

2 In whatsoever path I stray,

Where'er I make my bed at night,
No maze can

conceal my way,
But I stand open to thy sight.

3 Nor can my tongue pronounce a word;

How secretly foe'er 'twere said,
But in thine ear it shall be heard,
And by thy judgment shall be weigh'd.

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The fashion of thy plastic hand : s Knowledge too excellent for me,

Me, wretched man, to understand,

6 Whither, ah! whither then can I

From thine all-present spirit go? 7 To Heav'n? 'tis there thou’rt thrond on high :

To Hell ? 'tis there thou rul'st below.

$ Lend me, O Morning, lend me wings !

On the first beam of op'ning day
To the last wave, that ocean flings
On the world's fhore, I'll Ait away.

9 Ah

9 Ah fool ! if there I meant to hide,

For thou, my God, shalt reach me there ;
Ev'n there thy hand Mall be my guide,
Thy right hand hold me in its care.

10 Again, if calling out for night,

I bid it shroud me from thine eyes,
Thy presence makes a burst of light,
And darkness to the centre hies.

11 Nay, darkness cannot intervene

Betwixt the universe and Thee;
Light or no light, there's nought I ween,
God self-illunin'd cannot see.

12 Thine is each atom of my frame;

Thy fingers ftrung my inmoft reins,
E'en in the womb, or e'er I came.
To life and caus'd a mother's pains.

13 Oh! what a fearful work is man!

A wonder of creative art!
My God, how marvellous thy plan!
'Tis character'd

upon my heart,

+4 My very bones, tho' deep conceal'd

And buried in this living clay,
Are to thy searching fight reveal'd
As clear as in the face of day.

15 That eye, which thro' creation darts,

My substance, yet imperfect, fcan'd,
And in thy books my embryo parts
Were written and their uses plau’d.

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