suggests the doubt, unknown before, that a mother's scruples may be too precise; that a father's strictness may be over-strained. But it is not so much by what is said to, as by what is said in presence of, a child, that his mind is biassed, and his heart corrupted. It is the murmur amongst his seniors, that their liberty is needlessly curtailed, and that they are denied the fair indulgencies of youth;it is the half-smothered laugh, at a father's peculiarities and frailties;-the insinuations that it is unmanly, to receive the caresses of a mother's tenderness; it is the sly jest, at the expense of modesty and purity, the blasphemy scarce uttered, for fear that the wind might waft it to a father's ears;-it is the avowed intention of sinning with a still higher hand, when boyhood passes into manhood; it is the unblushing boast, and the disgusting details, of profligacies actually committed, or pretended to have been committed:these are the steps, by which a brother advances to the full accomplishment of a brother's ruin, and destroys the fairest blossoms which the soul, in its morning prime, can yield. A child listens to these filthy communications. To him they have the excitement of new thoughts, the freshness of new conceptions. He hears with wonder-he is filled with admiration of the speaker. He knows not the nature of the process: but a process his mind and

his whole soul, are undergoing. There is a something, now, which checks the delightful freedom, which damps the joyousness and lightness of heart, with which he ran into the embraces of his parents. The shyness of conscious guilt, the self-reproaches of ingratitude, cast a gloom upon his countenance, and he is no longer what he was. Nor is the jealousy of parental fondness, slow to discern the change. Suspicions may, indeed, be rejected for a time, as too painful to be endured. But their assaults cannot long be parried. The case becomes too clear. Conviction comes home to the parent's heart, that he has lost his child-that he has, at least, lost all comfort in him. I need say no more. Fathers and mothers, who have experienced this sorest, perhaps, of all trials, alone can tell its bitterness. Disappointed in their elder children, they have looked for, and hitherto had found, compensation in the younger. But the sad discovery is made, that the infection is descending. The heart-sickening process has commenced, in the quarter where they were least prepared. And they are, in a fresh and aggravated instance, again to feel, "how sharper than a serpent's tooth it is, to have a thankless child."

Now, I hesitate not to affirm, that if there be a position, in which a human being can stand doubly hateful in the sight of God, it is that of

a young person blighting those tender plants, which it was his own parents' fondest care to nourish. Let such beware, lest it end, at last, in bitter regrets, where all regrets are vain. Let them, while they have time, take the awful warning of him, who in hell pleaded, with fruitless supplication, for his five brethren :-not that he cared for their souls; but because he dreaded their upbraidings, for the fatal influence of his example, as the most intolerable of the pains, which he was doomed to suffer, in that place of

torment.

Is there, then, no reverse to this revolting picture? Yes. Blessed be God, there are instances, and I can bear testimony to the fact, of elder brothers, who have fulfilled, and are still fulfilling, their sacred and important duties. Nor is there a plant, in the garden of the Lord, which brings forth fruit more pleasant to the eye of God or man, than a son, who thus maketh a glad father, and causeth his mother's heart to sing for joy. Like another John the Baptist, his delightful task is to turn the hearts of his parents to their children, and the hearts of those children to the Lord their God. Or rather, like that Saviour, in whose steps he treads,-like that mediator, by whom it pleased the Father to reconcile all things unto himself, he brings down, and softens the

authority of the parent, in the familiar and equal character of the brother; while, as the first-born and representative of his brethren, he offers the continual sacrifice of filial piety, obedience, and love.

Oh! if I address any who stand in that high, that amiable, that Christ-like position, I would say, persevere, and your reward will be great in heaven. Persevere, and you will shine amongst those celestial stars, who have turned many to righteousness. Persevere, and Joseph's dream will be more than a dream to you. In "the sober certainty of waking bliss," and in the open daylight of eternity, your father, and mother, and brothers, and sisters, will present themselves before you, and say, It was you, as God's chosen instrument, who brought us to this state of blessedness; it was you, who kept us from being scattered on life's tempestuous ocean, and landed us all, at last, a family in heaven."

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LECTURE III.

RUTH, i. 16, 17.

"AND RUTH SAID, ENTREAT ME NOT TO LEAVE THEE, OR TO RETURN FROM FOLLOWING AFTER THEE FOR WHITHER THOU

GOEST, I WILL GO; AND WHERE thou lodgest, I will Lodge; THY PEOPLE SHALL BE MY PEOPLE, AND THY GOD MY GOD: WHERE THOU DIEST WILL I DIE, AND THERE WILL I BE BUried: THE LORD DO SO TO ME, AND more also, if ought but deaTH PART THEE AND ME."

THESE words, so full of deep, unalterable affection, give ample proof, how the character of Naomi had' won upon the heart of Ruth. They show, moreover, how the affections which thus conciliated, terminated not in herself, but proceeded onwards, till they found their rest in God. And such is, no doubt, the final cause of those mutual attractions, by which heart is linked to heart, and man is bound to man. If creature-attachments rested in the creature, they would only prove endless sources of disquietude and pain. But why did I say rested? For our souls were formed for God; and they cannot rest, until they rest in him. Human ties are but links of that great chain, which binds the whole rational creation to its universal centre; but steps, by which nature ascends to nature's God.