is another set of men of a different turn; more numerous, and much more dangerous to the community, who treat every act of religion as a jest, and hold its most sacred ordinances in contempt. Set forms and ceremonies, though they have no essential virtue in themselves, are yet indispensably requisite to keep alive in us a quick sense of our duty. It must be allowed, indeed, that if a man could constantly employ his mind in holy meditations, exercise his virtues, and believe the mysteries of our religion, he would be a true Christian, though he never complied with any outward forms, or repeated so much as a single prayer. But it is manifest from experience, that those who neglect the ordinances, neglect also the duties of a Christian; and the least reflection on the human mind will convince us, that some external rites are necessary to settle the wandering ideas, and to fix the attention on its proper object. The fervent repetition of a prayer inspires us with love and gratitude towards the Deity, and kindles the sparks of devotion within us and it is easy to conceive, that, if the celebration of public worship was neglected among us only for one year, it would be a more fatal blow to religion than all the weak attacks of infidels and free-thinkers.

But though forms may be said to compose the body, a good life is the soul of religion; without which the rest is but a dead mass. The most rigid compliance with every ordinance of the church, if it has no influence on our conduct, is rather a solemn mockery than an atonement for our offences; as they, who receive the bread and wine without a firm resolution to lead a new life, are said to eat and drink their own damnation. Wherefore, a strict observance of this or that particular day is not a sufficient discharge of our duty, except it serve to rouze us from the lethargy of sin, to awaken in us a desire of becoming worthy the protection of the Almighty, by

animating our faith, amending our lives, and working in us a repentance of our transgressions. Thus the Lord's Day is not merely set apart for devotion, with an unlimited licence to wickedness all the rest of the week; but our being particularly exercised in acts of piety for one day, is calculated to strengthen our virtue, and give a tincture of religion to our whole conduct through the other six.

On the present solemn occasion, I doubt not but every persuasive, tending to make this temporary fast a lasting benefit, will be urged by the clergy: I shall therefore content myself with touching on some laxities in the usual manner of keeping a Fast ; which, though they are not of sufficient dignity to be taken notice of from the pulpit, should yet be pointed out, as the violation of the fast in these particulars is almost universal.

The very name of a Fast implies a day of abstinence, of mortification, and self-denial; which has always been enjoined as a necessary means of subduing irregular desires, and fitting us for holy meditations. For this reason, in former days when people of quality rose earlier than even mechanics now open their shops; when the court itself dined at eleven, that meal was deferred till four o'clock, in compliance with this religious exercise, which was in those times a real abstinence: a true piece of mortification and self-denial. But if the observance of a fast consists in not dining till four o'clock, our persons of fashion may be said to fast every day of their lives. In truth, the several hours of the day are adapted to such very different employments to what they were formerly, that our four o'clock stands in the place of their eleven: and nothing can be more absurd (to use no harsher term) than to adhere to the form in the performance of a religious act, when by the alteration of circumstances that form flatly contradicts the very meaning of its original institution. I

would also ask those rigid devotees, who observe this day in all the strictness of the letter, and would be shocked at the sight of a leg of mutton or beefsteak on their tables, whether the dining upon salt or other fish may not be considered rather as feasting than fasting, if (as is often the case) it should happen to be a dish they are remarkably fond of? All these methods of keeping a fast without abstinence, mortification, or self-denial, are mere quibbles to evade the performance of our duty, and entirely frustrate the design of appointing this solemnity. There is something of this nature very commonly practised in France; where there are many families who keep the whole lent with great strictness, but the last night of it invite a great deal of company to supper. The moment the clock strikes twelve, a magnificent entertainment, consisting of all sorts of rich fare, is served up, and these most christian debauchees sit down to indulge in luxury, without sinning against the canon.

I cannot conclude without an earnest wish that the observation of the present fast may awaken in us a serious attention to our duty hereafter; that we may not seem to have barely complied with a stated form, or to have been affected with the short-lived piety of a single day. As to those who require constantly to be frightened into their duty, I will for once venture to commence prophet; and let them be assured that my predictions will infallibly come to pass. There is a danger more certain than an earthquake or a comet, which will inevitably overwhelm us; a danger, from which we cannot possibly guard ourselves, and which perhaps is even now at our doors. This danger I cannot better set forth than in the alarming words of a celebrated French preacher. 'know a man (and I will point him out presently) who 'is now in this church; a man in perfect health; a 'man in the flower of his age: and yet this man,

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perhaps before next Sunday, perhaps by to-morrow 'will be in his grave. This man, my dear brethren, ' is myself, who speak to you; it is you, who hear me.'

I Have just now, with near an hundred more, taken the first degree which this University confers on her sons; and begin to consider within myself, in what manner we have spent our time for these four years past, and what profit we are likely to receive hereafter from our academical studies. But upon retrospection I find that, instead of having laid up a store of learning which might have been of service to us in our future connexions and intercourse with mankind, we have been confounding our heads with a miscellaneous heap of nonsense, which most of us, I am certain, are endeavouring to unlearn as fast as we possibly can: instead of having acquired such a share of common sense as might

have been of service to ourselves and acquaintance, we must entirely sell off our old stock, and begin the world of literature anew. This reflection cannot be very pleasant to those who, I must say, have squandered away so very precious a time of life, when, though judgment perhaps is not come to maturity, yet imagination and invention, those noble offsprings of a promising mind, are in the very flower and bloom of perfection.

This seat of learning, for it undoubtedly deserves that name, has drawn and kept us together for some years our manners, conversation, and studies bear a great similitude; but now either chance or choice is going to disperse us over the whole kingdom; and our places of abode will scarce be more widely different than our schemes of life. Notwithstandingthis, the same plan of study has been imposed on all; whether agreeable or contrary to the bent of inclination, has never been regarded. Mathematics is the standard to which all merit is referred; and all other excellencies without these, are quite overlooked and neglected: the solid learning of Greece and Rome is a trifling acquisition; and much more so, every polite accomplishment: in short, if you will not get all Euclid and his diagrams by heart, and pore over Saunderson till you are as blind as he was himself, they will say of you, as in the motto to one of your late papers, actum est! ilicet! eristi! 'tis all over with you! you are ruined! undone !' Not that I would depreciate this kind of learning; it is certainly a most noble science, and reflects the greatest honour on human wit and invention: all that I complain of is, the unreasonable stress that is laid upon it: nay even the most abstruse parts of it which is still more absurd, as there are so very few heads able to perceive and retain the nice chain of reasoning and deduction which must necessarily be made use of; and as a small number of mathe

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