--- -what hazards he will bring upon himself,what embarrassinent upon his affairs, to extricate and serve him! If man is altogether a felfish creature (as these moralizers would make him), 'tis certain he does not arrive at the full maturity of it, in this time of his life.-No. If he deserves any accufation, 'tis in the other extreme, "That in his youth he is generally (6 more Fool than KNAVE,”—and so far from being fufpected of living to himself, that he lives rather to every body elfe; the unconfciousness of art and design in his own intentions, rendering him fo utterly void of a fufpicion of it in others, as to leave him too oft a bubble to every one who will take the advantage.But you will fay, he foon abates of these transports of difinterested love; and as he grows older,-grows wifer, and learns to live more to himself. Let us examine. That a longer knowledge of the world, and fome experience of infincerity, will teach him a leffon of more caution in the choice of friendships, and lefs forwardness in the undistinguished offers of his fervices, is what I grant. But if he cools of these, does he not grow warmer ftill in connections of a different kind? Follow him, I pray you, into the next stage of life, where he has entered into engagements, and appears as the father of a family, and you will fee the paffion still remains-the stream somewhat more confined,-but runs the stronger for it, the fame benevolence of heart, altered only in its courfe, and the difference of objects towards which it tends. Take a short view of him in this light, as acting under the many tender claims which that relation lays upon him, -spending many weary days, and fleepless nights-utterly forgetful of himself,-intent only upon his family, and with an anxious heart contriving and labouring to keep it from distress, against that hour when he shall be taken from its protection. Does fuch a one live to himself?—He who rifes early, late takes reft, and eats the bread of carefulness, to fave others the forrow of doing fo after him; does fuch a one live only to himself?Ye, who are parents, answer this question for him. How oft have ye facrificed your health,—your ease, -your pleasures,-nay, the very comforts of your lives, for the fake of your children?— How many indulgences have ye given up ?— What What felf-denials and difficulties have ye chearfully undergone for them?-In their sickness, or reports of their misconduct, how have ye gone on your way forrowing? What alarms within you, when fancy forebodes but imaginary misfortunes hanging over them?-but when real ones have overtaken them, and mifchief befallen them in the way in which they bave gone, how fharper than a sword have ye felt the workings of parental kindness? In whatever period of human life we look for proofs of selfishness,-let us not seek them in this relation of a parent, whose whole life, when truly known, is often little elfe but a fucceffion of cares, heart-aches, and difquieting apprehenfions, enough to fhew, that he is but an inftrument in the hand of God to provide for the well-being of others, to ferve their intereft as well as his own. If you try the truth of this reasoning upon every other part or fituation of the fame life, you will find it holds good in one degree or other. Take a view of it out of these closer connections both of a friend and parent.-Confider him for a moment under that natural alliance, in which even a heathen poet has placed G 4 him; him; namely, that of a man:-and as fuch, to his honour, as one incapable of standing unconcerned in whatever concerns his fellowcreatures. Compaffion has fo great a flare in our nature, and the miseries of this world are fo conftant an exercise of it, as to leave it in no one's power (who deferves the name of man) in this refpect, to live to himself. He cannot stop his ears against the cries of the unfortunate.-The fad ftory of the fatherless, and him that has no helper, must be heard. The forrowful fighing of the prisoners will come before him; and a thousand other untold cafes of distress to which the life of man is fubject, find a way to his heart, let intereft guard the paffage as it will-if he has this world's goods, and feeth his brother have need, he will not be able to shut up his bowels of compaffion from him. Let any man of common humanity look back upon his own life as fubjected to these ftrong claims, and recollect the influence they have had upon him. How oft the mere impulfes of generofity and compaffion have led him out of his way?-In how many acts of charity charity and kindness, his fellow-feeling for others has made him forget himself?—In neighbourly offices, how oft he has acted against all confiderations of profit, convenience, nay, fometimes even of juftice itself?-Let him add to this account, how much, in the progress of his life, has been given up even to the leffer obligations of civility and good manners?What reftraints they have laid him under? How large a portion of time,-how much of his inclination and the plan of life he should most have wished, has from time to time been made a facrifice to his good nature and difinclination to give pain or difguft to others? Whoever takes a view of the life of man, in this glass wherein I have fhewn it, will find it fo befet and hemmed in with obligations of one kind or other, as to leave little room to fufpect, that man can live to himself and fo closely has our Creator linked us together (as well as all other parts of his works) for the prefervation of that harmony in the frame and syftem of things which his wifdom has at first established, that we find this bond of mutual dependence, however relaxed, is too strong to |